


The Pauldron

by kimannebb



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Baking, Breathplay, Coffee Shops, Drama, Heavy Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Violence, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10668309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimannebb/pseuds/kimannebb
Summary: Modern Day AU.  Porthos owns a coffee shop and conspires with his boyfriend to seduce the grumpy regular customer who's taken up residence in a corner of his shop.





	The Pauldron

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thank you to faradheia for the beta and cheerleading. To my "Pocket Friends" who listed to me complain, be excited or ramble about this story over the last nine months (I worked on it on and off). You were always so encouraging and that was awesome. A special thanks to smittywing as she counted limbs during sexy times within the story.
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

* August – 2016 *

Porthos walks down the street taking in the surrounding store fronts and no matter how many times he rounds the corner and sees the sign for The Pauldron, his heart flips. It never gets old, owning your own business. No matter how many times he comes around the corner, he is always filled with joy at the sight of his café.

The hours are long as it’s only him and Aramis doing all the lifting, but he doesn’t mind. Not when he knows that this was his dream which he built by himself. 

And some help from Aramis.

He grins, imagining Aramis’s reaction to his inner thoughts. Porthos knows that without Aramis’s support it never would’ve happened as he needed someone pushin’ him and throwing out ideas. It doesn’t hurt that Aramis is a fabulous baker.

Porthos walks past the front window and squints as the sun reflects off the chrome framing the windows and turns down the short, narrow alley so he can enter from the back. It’s been a hard two years but they’ve created a niche for themselves. People come in for the coffee or tea just as much as for the baked goods. There are a handful of regulars that always fill him with happiness, knowing they’ve chosen _their_ place for their caffeine fix.

As Porthos opens the door he yells, “Mornin’!!” A curse and a loud clang answer in return and he grins. Aramis wants him to yell out his presence, so he does, but it usually ends with him being startled anyway.

“You’re lucky it was empty this time.” Aramis says while picking up the large bowl from the floor. “Everything is out in the cases.” 

Porthos raises his eyebrows.

Aramis huffs in offense. “Things went quickly this morning so I was able to set things out. Good thing too as you’re cutting it close.”

Porthos leans in and gives him a quick kiss. “I fell back asleep; the second alarm saved me.”

“That’s why we have it.” Aramis pats Porthos’s chest and walks to open the refrigerator. “Is today the day?”

He rolls his eyes. Aramis has been pesterin’ him to speak to their number one regular; a quiet and seemingly grumpy man.

“Yes, I think so.”

“Good.” He closes the door with his foot and puts the eggs and butter onto the baking block. “Kinda sick of hearing you ponder. Just do it.”

“If I do, that just means you’ll need to come out and meet him.”

Aramis gives a small smile, the right side higher than the other due to the scar tissue. “We’ll see.” He says and pushes Porthos out of the kitchen. 

Aramis is right as it’s close to opening and he needs to start the hot water, coffee machines, and make sure the counter is stocked with cups, plates, napkins and whatever else he can anticipate the customers needing.

An hour later, Porthos approaches the table slowly, knowing that he is being watched the closer he gets. The man raises his head and there’s a scowl on his face but Porthos has seen this expression for months and easily looks past it. Instead, he extends his hand. 

“I’m Porthos.”

The man looks surprised and hesitates an extra moment before taking his hand. “Oliver.”

Porthos smiles and sits down in the empty chair across from him and puts the plate from his other hand on the table. 

“Hi Oliver. I wanted to introduce myself. You’ve been comin’ in for a while and I just felt we should get to know each other if you’re going to continue to be a regular. I’ve brought a cupcake.”

Oliver glances down to the plate and back up to meet Porthos’s eyes. “Thanks. This wasn’t necessary. I like the quiet.”

“Yes, I assumed since you always sit in this corner. Can I make it more comfortable in some way?”

“You’re serious.”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Oliver shows a slight grin. “Do you have the authority to be offering free desserts and decorating changes?”

Porthos tenses and readies himself to argue, sensitive to people questioning his ownership.

“Ah, you’re the owner then.” He states quickly. “I wasn’t sure; although you’re here all the time.”

“Are you always this combative?” Porthos asks, silently impressed by his ability to read him so accurately.

“It’s not everyday someone comes over and invites themselves to my table. I’m used to people wanting things.” And he sounds apologetic.

Porthos shrugs. “Yes I’m the owner, well mostly the owner. I have a partner. He also does the baking.”

“Oh, he’s the one that made the treat?”

“Oh yes. He makes everythin’.” Porthos can’t hide how proud he is of Aramis and judging by the way Oliver’s eyes widen, he didn’t hide anything about the way he feels. He stands up, “I’m serious. If there’s a change I can make, let me know.”

Oliver nods and goes back to his laptop while Porthos retreats to the kitchen. He finds Aramis wiping the baking block down, but he can tell it’s clean. Aramis has lost the art of sneakiness.

“Were you watching?” 

Aramis chuckles. “Yes, I was peeking to see if he even allowed you to sit down. I wasn’t sure.”

“Me either.” Porthos puts his arms around Aramis and kisses his cheek and pretends not to notice how stiff Aramis holds himself. “I gave him the cupcake.”

“Good, he looks like a man that enjoys carrot cake.” Aramis pulls away and turns so that he’s facing Porthos. “So, what’s he like?”

“Quiet. Serious. Everything we already knew. His name…” 

The quiet ding, from the bell left on the counter, interrupts them and Porthos returns to the front to find their grumpiest customer shifting from foot to foot.

“Hi. Leaving early today?” 

Oliver startles. “Yes. Not sure if I’m flattered or concerned by your knowledge of my schedule.”

Porthos glances down and notices the cupcake which only has one bite out of it. “Didn’t you like the cupcake? Aramis was so sure you were a carrot cake kind of man.”

“Did he now?” Oliver glances behind Porthos as though he could see into the back. “He’s not wrong, I do enjoy carrot cake. I just don’t like raisins in it.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll be sure to tell him. Next time, no raisins.”

“No, no that’s not necessary.” Oliver clears his throat. “One other thing. Please call me Athos.” At Porthos’s confused look he continues. “Oliver is my given name, the name I give strangers, people I don’t intend to speak with again. It’s what I normally give and you surprised me. But, my few friends call me Athos.”

Porthos can’t control his smile, he knows that’s it’s big and toothy and making his eyes squint a little. It just feels important, “Well. It’s nice to meet you Athos who doesn’t like raisins.”

Athos smiles a little and Porthos’s heart skips a beat. “I’m sure it’s delicious and don’t want to hurt his feelings, it’s just not to my liking. Uh, see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow then.” 

Porthos watches him leave and doesn’t stop grinning.

 

* September – 2016 *

 

Porthos is putting the register cash away when Aramis appears in the doorway kneading his hands. 

“Ready to go?” Aramis asks. Porthos can hear the hopefulness in his voice. He looks at the clock and out the windows into the darkness knowing why Aramis is asking if he’s ready.

“Not quite yet. I wanted to organize the signs for tomorrow. Your cookies are in high demand and when we have a special you know how the regulars get.”

Aramis nods. “I know. I baked extra today, did something new which hopefully people will try. I plan on starting early tomorrow on the sugar cookies, the dough is resting in the refrigerator so it’ll be ready in the morning.”

He nods and starts pulling the signs from the drawer; already having ideas on where to place them to grab attention. “I need to finish up placing the signs before leaving.” Porthos looks up and meets Aramis’s eyes. “Are you waiting for me?”

Porthos tries to appear as nonchalant as possible even though his heart is thumping hard in his chest. Aramis hesitates, looks at the ground and shrugs.

“Well, if you’re sticking around, you gotta work.” He says brightly, hiding his disappointment.

Aramis takes a breath and stands straighter. “No. I’m going home.” He nods as though he’s convincing himself. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

Taking two large steps, he hugs Aramis tight and kisses him. “Have your phone out. The walk will take ten minutes.”

“I can do this,” already sounding unsure.

“Yes. You can do this.” Porthos squeezes his shoulders and steps back.

Aramis smiles and Porthos can’t help notice how the scars on his cheek crinkles or how pink they look. “See you at home.”

As Aramis leaves through the back door, Porthos hurries through his tasks. He puts one sign in each of the front windows, informing potential customers of the “Buy 3 cookies, get 3 cookies half price”. This sale that was originally once a month but has increased to every other week due to its success. There’s additional information about how half priced cookies can be purchased and given to the halfway house near the hospital, which is only a few blocks away. 

Porthos is proud of how the program is working. The halfway house is for families with sick children in the hospital. The organization allows families to stay there for free or a minimal fee. When they drop off the cookies, everyone is excited, the children especially. Aramis always makes fun, bright cookies in the shape of animals.

Porthos doesn’t linger over the displays and is finished in record time. He pauses by the back door, he doesn’t want to appear too eager to get home or Aramis may think that Porthos thinks that Aramis is weak.

And now Porthos’s head aches from how ridiculous he’s being. Porthos just wants to be there _in case_ he’s needed.

He rests his head against the door and his palm grips the handle. It’s been six months since the attack and this is the first time Aramis left after sundown by himself. Porthos shakes his head. He’s leaving, let Aramis be pissed if he comes home too early.

*

Porthos tosses his keys on the table, missing the bowl that Aramis not-so-subtly suggested he use for said keys. After weeks of Porthos ignoring the bowl a black place mat appeared, Porthos assumes he won that battle but he isn’t so sure.

“Aramis?” Porthos calls into the apartment.

“Yeah?”

He closes his eyes and sighs out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and moves toward the sound. He finds Aramis folded against the corner of the couch but pops up as Porthos enters the room.

“You a’right?”

Aramis nods; a mirthless chuckle escapes. “I didn’t run home but it was close. Had a panic attack.” 

Porthos moves toward him but stops as Aramis starts pacing with nervous energy, his hair fluffs out around his head.

“I’m fine. Seems ridiculous.”

“It’s not. It’s big.” Porthos adds.

Aramis kicks a forgotten pair of sneakers across the floor. “I’ve spent so long hiding. Being afraid!”

Porthos remains still and watches because this is the most animated Aramis has been in months.

“I allowed him… _them_ to take even more from me.” Aramis says angrily toward the wall. “Why did it take so long?”

“You weren’t ready.”

“I should’ve been!”

“Aramis…” Porthos starts but Aramis strides away for the bedroom and Porthos follows.

Aramis furiously pulls the outer shirt over his head and throws it toward a corner, leaving the tight black shirt on. He bends over and yanks his socks off.

Trying for levity Porthos says, “This is the angriest strip show I’ve ever seen.”

Instead of giving Aramis pause, it seems to ignite him further as he all but tears his pants down and kicks them away. He stalks towards Porthos with such hunger in his eyes that Porthos steps back, bumping into the dresser.

Porthos breathes shallowly as Aramis pushes into his space. “I want you naked.” Aramis grabs his shirt and twists. “You can do it yourself or risk the survival of your clothes.”

He blinks, dumbfounded. Porthos nods slightly and licks his lips, sees Aramis track the movement before stepping back. Porthos undresses in record time; toeing off shoes as he removes his shirt, pushing off socks as his pants hit the floor.

Aramis attacks him before he is able to stand upright again. The kiss is hard, their teeth knock together because Porthos wasn’t ready for such enthusiasm. They adjust enough that their teeth are no longer trying to push through their lips. Porthos tries to pull back, to breathe, to take a second, but Aramis doesn’t allow it. 

He pulls hard on Porthos’s biceps until they are falling to the mattress. Porthos tries to catch himself so he doesn’t squish Aramis, however Aramis huffs out a lungful of air and flips them. Aramis kisses his way across Porthos’s cheek, down his neck; while hands find purchase in his very short hair. Porthos moans, really likes the sensation of Aramis moving his head wherever he wants it and the fingers combing through.

“Aramis.” Porthos whispers, trying to get Aramis to slow down.

“No talking. This is what I want.”

Who is Porthos to argue? They’ll deal with any problems afterward, perhaps that’s not the way he should be approaching this, but if Porthos is honest with himself, he wants to be whatever Aramis needs. This feeling of danger, of being what Aramis _wants_ sends a chill down his spine and settles low in his gut. He likes it and wants more of it.

Aramis bites his nipple gently, then sucks softly until the sucking turns harder and Porthos bucks his hips and buries a hand in Aramis’s hair. 

“Can I…” Aramis lifts his head and meets Porthos’s eyes. They’re less angry now and more determined and as Aramis smiles slightly, Porthos thinks he can see love; something that has been missing from Aramis’s eyes.

Porthos clenches his hand through Aramis’s hair. “You can do whatever you want,” surprising himself at the husky sound of his voice.

Aramis’s eyes sparkle as his grin deepens and Porthos finds himself rolled over. He shivers as Aramis runs his lips over his neck, Porthos can feel the swipe of a tongue, the drag of stubble. His whole body comes alive from the attention up and down the back of his neck and hair line. Aramis slowly moves across his right shoulder. The licking turns to longer, wetter trips of his tongue.

Porthos shifts against the bed, his cock hard as he rubs against the sheet. Aramis’s fingers push into his sides and then draw up around to his back and then down to his ass. Unashamedly Porthos spreads his legs and he can feel Aramis’s groan through his skin. 

Aramis sneaks his arm under Porthos and sits back so now they’re kneeling. With some quick movements, Porthos can feel Aramis’s cock slide between his ass cheeks. Porthos worries for a moment, but quickly realizes Aramis wants nothing more than the friction.

He reaches back and grabs Aramis’s thighs and holds on as Aramis picks up a rhythm. Porthos takes a moment before he matches the movement, they moan together as they fall in-sync. 

Aramis slides his right hand down Porthos’s stomach and grabs his cock at the base and slowly strokes upward. He wants Aramis to move faster, opens his mouth to tell him, but Aramis quickly covers his mouth with his other hand.

His cock jumps and he exhales roughly into Aramis’s palm. He feels a sucking kiss on his shoulder as the stroking increases. Porthos pushes back against Aramis, wanting to feel the drag across his ass and behind his balls.

Quicker than he thought, although he and Aramis haven’t had sex this fast paced or rough since the incident, Porthos can feel himself edging closer and closer to the end. His hands clench Aramis’s legs and he gasps as Aramis hits him just right so that his entire cock seems to move across his asshole.

“Come on.” Porthos breathes out. He barely gets another breath before Aramis’s hand comes around his throat and presses. Porthos goes rigid, he shudders violently and moans. Aramis squeezes and his moan is choked off. Aramis moves his hand faster around his cock and pushes his forehead into Porthos’s shoulder while groaning.

The faster Aramis jacks him off the tighter his other hand closes around his throat. Porthos’s eyes roll backward and his head falls to Aramis’s shoulder. He lets himself go, feels how the blood is rushing through his body. The tingling sensation moves through his legs and up his back. His hands fall to the side, no longer gripping Aramis tight.

He can hear Aramis mumbling into his skin “god, yes, yes” over and over and his hips are working so fast Porthos thinks he can hear the bed squeaking but he’s not sure as he’s almost out of air. Aramis’s hand spasms and Porthos sucks in a small mouthful of air as Aramis swears and his hips jerk and Porthos can feel Aramis come between his legs. The warmth is pushed up against his balls and Porthos jerks forward as Aramis tugs only the head of cock with his slick fingers so fast that Porthos only has a moment before he is coming.

Aramis lets go of his throat to pull on his nipple as his other hand continues to glide over his cock, everything is so wet and Porthos is pulling in air as his body shakes. He finally pushes Aramis’s hand away and they both still until their breathing is no longer gasping breaths.

Small, dry kisses pepper his one shoulder, neck and then the other shoulder. Porthos grips the arms encircling him and smiles. “Hey.”

“Not sure why you stay.”

Frowning Porthos turns around and caresses Aramis’s cheek; the skin rough due to the scars. “What’s the matter?”

Aramis shakes his head and clumsily gets off the bed, heading toward the bathroom. The water runs right away, but he’s gone longer than Porthos expects. Aramis gives him a towel when he returns to bed. Dumbfounded Porthos accepts the towel as he gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom. He cleans off the worst of the mess, splashes water on his face and returns to a dark room.

Porthos huffs. Loudly.

“I don’t want to talk. I just want to be with you.”

Porthos knows he should push Aramis, but he’s selfish and his body is still riding high from before and the idea of holding Aramis is the best thing ever. So he doesn’t push; he climbs into bed, slides up behind Aramis and drapes an arm around his waist. His hand rests against where he knows the other scars to be, he doesn’t see them often, but knows their placement.

“It’s late, let’s get to bed. You have cookies to bake in the morning.”

Porthos feels Aramis’s body shake and he assumes it’s a silent chuckle.

 

* October – 2016 *

 

There is a steady stream of people coming through and most are buying cookies. Aramis’s cookies are fantastic and going even faster than they thought. There are unicorns, owls, hummingbirds and giraffes. The owls are amazing, so colorful, no less than four colors per cookie. Porthos isn’t sure how Aramis does it, producing things this creative in high quantity in a short amount of time. 

He shouldn’t be surprised though as he barely sees Aramis anymore. 

Porthos doesn’t want to seem dependent on Aramis, but they haven’t spent much time together. When Porthos arrives home late, Aramis is sleeping. He’s embarrassed to admit to himself that he doesn’t really think that Aramis is asleep, which makes Porthos wonder why he is actively avoiding him. 

He’s watched Aramis struggle with healing, adjust to the way he looks. How he interacts with people or doesn’t interact with people. Through it all Porthos feels he’s been supportive, backing off to allow Aramis to find his own way.

The easy times are when Aramis lets Porthos help. More talking, touching, just being with each other. The hard times are when he withdraws and Porthos never knows if he should drag Aramis out of the dark or allow him to fight his way through. Porthos believed in Aramis’s strength of character and love of life to overcome any darkness.

The last several weeks Porthos has watched, dumbfounded, as Aramis pulls away; he didn’t even do it subtly. The night after the amazing sex Aramis just … stopped trying. He started getting up _just_ before Porthos so they missed having a before work conversation. During the work day they would speak but it was always work related; cookies, pies, the special cupcake of the day, inventory items. 

They didn’t talk about Athos at all. He doesn’t understand how Aramis could change so much, so quickly. It scares Porthos to think that Aramis has been battling this darkness for a while and has recently given into it. Porthos continues to try and banter with him, watch TV and just _be_ with each other but Aramis always finds a reason to reject him.  
He’s tired and feels alone. He doesn’t have his partner anymore, just this shell that looks like him. Porthos bows his head and takes a deep breath. These thoughts get him nowhere and he has a good life: Aramis, friends, the cafe, and Athos.

Athos is the one bright spot of his day that Porthos can depend on. He’s been making time to sit and talk with Athos, sometimes only a few minutes. Another day the rain was coming down so hard it kept the customers away, but not Athos. That day Porthos spent most of it chatting and flirting. No sense in denying it. 

He tried to entice Aramis out of the kitchen to join them, but he made an excuse about getting things prepared for the next day. Porthos knows he was being blown off, and it hurt. But Porthos is being supportive and trying to give Aramis what he seems to want, which is space.

Seducing Athos was something he and Aramis talked about, they had set out a plan together, but only Porthos seems to still be interested. He isn’t sure if he should stop, if this is now skirting the lines of cheating because Aramis isn’t conspiring with him. It’s the highlight of his day though, seeing someone wanting to be with him; the rest of the day is spent trying to draw Aramis toward him only to be ignored or masterfully pushed aside.

Through it all Porthos tries to keep his head up, fills his mind with positive thoughts and tries to push the feelings onto Aramis, but it’s not working. In fact, it’s getting worse. Knowing Aramis for so long, Porthos can tell he’s working himself up to something. Part of Porthos hopes it’s finding the strength to confront his inner thoughts or demons. Or asking for help, professional help, but Porthos is also a realist and partially accepts that Aramis seems to be losing the battle. Porthos doesn’t know how to help and it’s killing him a little each day.

With a deep breath, he pushes the moody thoughts away, just as he has been for weeks and concentrates on the customers. 

After a recent cookie sale the Halfway House contacted him to thank him for sending so many people their way. Their donations have increased and everyone enjoys the cookies. He discussed it with Aramis and they both decided that they would have cookies available all the time and that a customer could still buy them half price without needing to make another purchase. 

Porthos looks up as the door jingles, it’s a habit he wishes he could break, since it jingles often, but today he watches Athos hurry through and basically throw himself into his corner. Porthos has come to think of it as Athos’s corner and even added a small framed photo of the ocean. He thought Athos could use some calming influences. 

As soon as there’s a break in customers Porthos makes his way to Athos with a cup of tea.

“Mornin’. Everything ok?” He asks as he places the cup down.

Athos grimaces but Porthos thinks it was meant to be a smile. 

“Fine.” Porthos raises his eyebrows. “Not fine, but it’s unchangeable so I’m finding refuge here and don’t want to talk about it currently.”

“That’s fair.” Porthos hesitates. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you, do you have a moment or will later be better.”

Athos glances down at his computer and presses a few buttons before he closes the lid. “Now would be great.”

Porthos smiles and enjoys the way Athos’s face relaxes. He sits down and leans his elbows on the table. 

“You know our cookie special, yeah?” At Athos’s nod he continues. “I was thinking of creating an order form. People could buy one or a dozen at the half price without purchasing cookies for themselves if they are donating to the halfway house. People buyin’ the cookies aren’t always keeping them.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“Since you’re always on your laptop, any chance you could design a form?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, it’s just. I thought perhaps you’d be better than me or Aramis.”

Athos eyes him suspiciously. “Do you know what I do when I’m here?”

Porthos shakes his head. He never asked even with all their recent conversations, it never came up.

“I’m a web designer. Among other things, but lately I’ve been doing that. It allows me the opportunity to work outside of an office.”

He isn’t sure how to respond. He’s sure the surprised look on his face is morphing into horrified as he remembers his first conversation with Athos about people wanting something from him. 

“It’s fine. You didn’t know.”

Finally finding his voice Porthos says, “Sorry. I didn’t realize. Nevermind, we can…”

“No.” Athos reaches across the table and lays his hand on top of Porthos’s. “I want to do it. I think it would be fun.”

Porthos’s heart pounds in his chest. In a fit of recklessness he twists his hand so that he’s now holding Athos’s hand. Athos glances down at their hands and then meets his eyes.

“That would be great.” Porthos states and squeezes Athos’s hand before slowly letting go.

Athos clears his throat. “Have you thought about expanding your website?”

“You’ve looked us up?” Porthos says surprised.

“I spend a lot of time here, it seemed prudent.”

Porthos laughs. “I would love to have a really awesome lookin’ site, but neither Aramis or myself have that particular talent.”

“Well, I’ll work something up.”

“Only if you want to.”

Athos smiles and Porthos watches his eyes crinkle. “I do.”

The door jingles again and Porthos returns to counter. He finds himself glancing toward Athos. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until the object of his gaze tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. Porthos chuckles and bites his lip as he turns to enter the back.

“Why do you look like a kid who got caught stealing a cookie?” asks Aramis, which startles Porthos slightly as Aramis hasn’t initiated many conversations recently.

“‘Cause I was. Was talkin’ with Athos and he is going to help us with our site and new order form.”

Aramis smiles brightly, but Porthos thinks it seems off. “Great! I was half afraid we were going to fight over who was going to take the web design class.” He shifts his attention to spooning batter onto a cookie sheet but continues speaking. “You get caught looking at him or something?”

Porthos can feel his face heat up. “Maybe. He’s been different. He’s more talkative. It’s been fun gettin’ to know him.”

Nodding, Aramis wipes his hands off and then puts a tray in the oven, then sets the timer. “Not as grumpy as you thought?”

“Oh, he’s grumpy, but that’s to ward other people off. Not me anymore though.”

“Good, glad he’s more friendly.”

“You should come out and chat him up when you’re free.” Porthos tries again.

Immediately Aramis tenses. “Don’t want to mess up what you have going on.”

“I have nothing going on without you. We talked about this.” Porthos doesn’t mean to sound short tempered, but he is because while Aramis walking himself home with more confidence, his interaction with people hasn’t improved. In fact, he seems more of an island unto himself than ever.

“I’ll think about it.” Aramis says as he starts dropping globs of batter onto another cookie sheet. Porthos has the distinct feeling he’s being dismissed.

 

* November – 2016 *

 

The sign on the door is still swinging back and forth after bring flipped when Athos arrives. Porthos’s heartbeat picks up. He can’t help it, he really likes him. And this is several hours early for his favorite regular.

“Mornin’.” Porthos calls out.

“Morning,” Athos replies back and even smiles as he pulls his laptop out and plugs in the cord. “I wanted to come in early, hoping it was slower just at opening, to show you what I’ve come up with.”

“Really? That’s awesome.” Porthos walks through the short swing door and around the counter. He drags a chair from a neighboring table and sits down next to him.

“If you don’t like something, just tell me. I tried to get to this sooner but several projects came up.” Athos says seeming nervous.

Porthos squeezes his shoulder. “Not a problem, I appreciate your help and I’m sure it will be awesome.”

For the next several minutes Porthos stares in amazement at the page Athos created. Athos walks through it, pointing out the graphics and explaining the color choices. He even created a link to a form, which he also designed.

“It’s brilliant!” Porthos exclaims and throws his arm around Athos’s shoulders and pulls him close for a hug. 

Porthos isn’t sure if he went too far, but when he separates Athos is smiling. The biggest and brightest smile he’s seen yet, flushed cheeks and all.

Athos clears his throat. “You approve then?”

“Absolutely. I’d like Aramis to look, let me go get him, but I can’t believe he won’t love it.” He jumps up and runs into the back, almost tempted to jump the counter, something he can do and has done, but at the last minute decides this would be the time he doesn’t make it. He doesn’t want Athos laughing at him.

He finds Aramis icing the last of the cookies but he can smell apples which are the mini pies of the day, so they must be in the oven. 

“Hey. Athos did the page. Can you go look?” He can’t keep his excitement at bay.

“The pies are in the oven.” Not looking up.

“I know. I’ll watch’em.”

Aramis raises his head. “Really?”

Porthos growls. “One time I forgot to set the timer.”

“It was more than once.” Aramis says, finishing the last cookie and wiping his hands on his apron. “Many times. But the timer is set, so when it goes off just take both trays out.”

He fidgets with the apron, runs a hand through his hair, removing the hair tie so that it falls around his face. “Anyone else out there?” 

“No, just him.” He says softly.

“Did you tell him about me?”

Porthos pauses. “He knows we’re partners in business and in life.” Aramis glares. “No, I didn’t tell him what happened, I may have mentioned some scars, but I honestly don’t remember.” He picks up a towel to start cleaning and adds strongly. “He won’t care.”

Aramis nods, pushes his shoulders back and walks toward the door. “Timer buzzes, take the trays out. I mean it.”

Porthos mumbles under his breath calling Aramis overly sensitive about baking and it wasn’t _that_ many times he burned things. Then he starts counting as he wipes down the counters and when he’s up to four times, he figures maybe Aramis has a point.

The timer goes off less than ten minutes later and Porthos pulls the trays out and drops them on the counter. He’d expected Aramis back before the timer. He was only going to look at the page. Pulling off the oven mitts he throws them toward their corner of the counter and walks out front and stops, taking in the scene.

Aramis is sitting facing Athos, not looking at the laptop, with a very serious look on his face. He meets Athos’s eyes over Aramis’s shoulder and Aramis immediately stands up. Porthos can hear him say how much he likes the page and hears a thank you as well before he walks away heading around the end of the counter and past Porthos to the back.

Porthos wants to talk to Athos but the morning rush is starting and Porthos must stay behind the counter. The rush is mostly regulars looking for their daily dose. Of course he’s sure his idea of a rush is Starbuck’s idea of a lull, but he is one man serving many. On a normal day he doesn’t mind manning the counter but Porthos is sure something’s wrong.

Today’s rush seems to drag on and on; of course it happens on a day he just wants to sit and talk to Athos. Sadly it takes about an hour before he’s reasonably sure he can step away for several consecutive minutes.

He walks to Athos’s table and sits down. “Aramis says he liked it.”

Athos looks at him and nods but doesn’t offer anything else, which is odd. Making a decision Porthos just dives in, “I know you weren’t talkin’ about the page when I came out. It seemed fairly intense. What were you discussin’?

Looking down to brush away crumbs that aren’t there, Athos takes several breaths. “He told me I should pursue you, that I should ask you out on a date, that he wouldn’t be in the way.”

Porthos frowns. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I don’t know him well, just through you, but I understood that the two of you were romantically involved.”

“We are,” Porthos blurts out.

Athos reaches across the table and puts his hand on top of Porthos’s clenched fist. He’s angry and getting more upset as the seconds tick by. “I know, but he seems to be of another mind.”

Porthos shakes his head. “What did he say, exactly.” And adds _please_ because he doesn’t want to seem demanding.

“Just that he wants you happy. That you seem to have taken to me and he feels that I would be a suitable person to go places with and have less baggage.” Athos chuckles mirthlessly. “Clearly he doesn’t know me well.”

Porthos slowly loosens his fingers and pats Athos’s hand. “Not sure what’s going on with him. He’s been troubled more… the last few weeks.”

“I know I don’t know him well, but, if I may, it seems he’s trying to find you someone before he leaves.”

“Why would he want to leave?”

Athos raises his eyebrows slightly. Porthos exhales strongly and sits back. “I thought he was overcoming, he was walking home at night. Maybe I’m deluded and he’s not gettin’ better at all.”

“May I ask what happened?” Athos asks quietly.

Porthos shrugs. “Short version. Almost a year ago he was out with his best friend. They were attacked as they left a club. The attackers came out of an alley and dragged them into it. It was like they were waiting for them. It was bad. That’s how he got the scars on the side of his face and his side from a knife.” Ignoring the look of horror on Athos’s face, Porthos took a breath and finished. “His friend left him. Wasn’t as hurt as Aramis. Didn’t call for help, just left. Someone else happened by and called. Once at the hospital they called me as I’m in his phone.”

“Porthos. I’m so sorry. Were you together before the attack?”

“Yes, but only a few months. Been friends for many years.”

Porthos pulls his hands away and makes to stand, but then feels as though strings have been cut and his head falls forward to rest on his fists. He hears the scrape of a chair and footsteps but doesn’t concentrate on anything until he feels a hand on his shoulder and one in his hair. 

It takes several minutes to realize that Athos is murmuring in his ear as his hand rubs back and forth over his shoulders and neck. The words are soft spoken and it doesn’t matter what he’s saying. He takes deep breaths and swallows the sob that wants to escape. Tears roll down his cheeks. He quickly wipes them away and sits up.

“Sorry.” Porthos says and rubs at his face one last time. 

His neck is squeezed tightly. “It’s quite alright. You ok?” Athos asks.

Porthos shrugs. “No. But I have to be. Aramis thinks he knows what’s best for me, yet I can’t return the favor. I’ve had to watch as he struggles every day and I don’t know how to help him.”

“I’m sure being there, being you, is helping.”

He turns and meets Athos’s eyes. “I think it’s different now. Before things were unknown, he was scared. Now he just seems pissed off. He’s been pushin’ me away for months.”Athos straightens and his eyes fill with anger but before he can say anything Porthos interrupts. “He’s angry with himself, not me. And I evidently need to find happiness. With you apparently.”

He smiles and Athos grins slightly in return. Porthos can’t look away from his eyes, so focused on him, so bright and blue. He wants to lean forward and kiss him but his thoughts are interrupted by a knock. His heart thumps in his chest. He’s such a mess.

Porthos turns toward the door. “Damn! Customers.” He stands up, makes to move toward the door, then toward Athos, then toward the door again.

Athos stands and grips his arms. “I turned the sign to closed and locked the door. You looked like you needed a few moments.”

Porthos sags. “Yes. Good idea.” He runs his hands through his hair and can feel the curls poofing up. “Thanks. Not for the door, well, yes for the door, but. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime. And may I suggest you try and have a discussion with handsome in the back?”

His laugh surprises him but he nods. “Only if I can tell him you said that.”

Athos tilts his head forward slightly, “Of course.”

On impulse Porthos leans forward and kisses Athos on the cheek before going to the door, flipping the window sign to open and apologizing even before having the door fully open. But when he looks over at Athos he sees a blush on his cheeks and his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

 

The rest of the day is difficult to get through. He waves goodbye to Athos as he leaves shortly after lunch. Without him to draw Porthos’s interest, the day seems to drag. All the while Porthos tries to organize his thoughts in a way he hopes Aramis will hear and believe.

Porthos is zipping up the cash pouch for the bank when Aramis sticks his head out the swinging door. 

“I’m heading out.”

“Me too. We can walk by the bank and put this in the deposit box on the way home.”

Aramis freezes, not expecting him to be ready to leave. “Alright.”

He flips the light switches as he walks through to the back and then again as he leaves through the back door where Aramis is waiting for him.

The air is crisp, something he knows Aramis likes, so he takes a chance and reaches out for his hand. Aramis doesn’t pull away, but holds himself stiff until they approach the bank and Porthos needs to go inside to quickly leave the pouch.

When he returns Aramis is staring at the sky and Porthos moves to take his hand again but Aramis has his hands stuck in his pockets as they walk. 

Porthos stays silent. No sense in trying to have a conversation that he knows will be hard while out in public. He’s not sure if Aramis can sense the upcoming confrontation but the walk back to their home seems quicker than normal.

This time Porthos takes extra care to get his keys in the bowl as they enter their place, eliciting a huff of amusement from Aramis. Something he hasn’t heard in weeks and it makes Porthos pause before closing the door and turning the lock.

Aramis takes his coat off and drops it on the chair as he walks over to the windows overlooking the street. Taking off his own jacket, Porthos walks into the living room and stands at the end of the couch, which is the furthest point from Aramis and still remaining in the room. He tosses his jacket toward the same chair holding Aramis’s and waits.

Porthos is not as patient as Aramis, they both know it, but he waits. And when Aramis says nothing he finally moves to sit on the chair with his elbows on his knees, starting at the floor. But he waits. He has tried to be everything for Aramis, friend, confidante, lover. And maybe that’s the problem, perhaps pushing him more to see someone that had an outside view was what he really needed.

There’s no instruction book on how to care for your boyfriend after a trauma. He wishes there was.

A half hour goes by before Aramis speaks. The sudden voice in the silence startles Porthos and he looks up, but Aramis is still facing the window. He can see fingers clutching his arms as though Aramis is trying to hold himself together.

“I know you don’t agree. But I think it’s best if we, if we stop the romantic side.”

Porthos nods and takes a breath. “Ok. If that’s what you want. You know I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want. But I think I deserve an explanation.”

He sees the fingers on Aramis’s arm squeeze tighter. “I just think. For now... that... That we separate so that you can live.”

Porthos stands up and takes a step forward. “Are you doing this for you or for me?”

“You haven’t been happy.”

“Don’t presume to know how I feel.” Porthos grits out. He doesn’t want to yell or seem angry so he takes another breath, trying to calm himself. “I love you. I want you in my life. I want you happy and healthy.”

A mirthless chuckle escapes Aramis. “I’m a liability. I will continue to bake, it’s the one area of my life that I seem to do well, I feel a kind of peace then. But everything else… it’s just too messy. _I’m_ too messy.”

“Here’s the thing. I don’t see you the same way as you see yourself. I’ve been tellin’ you that for months.”

Aramis turns around. “I’m not calling you a liar, but I find it hard to believe that you’re just as attracted to me now. That I’m just as much fun to be around. Having to watch everything you say and do. Never going out. I doubt this is how you want to live your life.”

Porthos tilts his head and takes a moment to collect himself but his eyes fill with tears and he is unable to keep the quaver from his voice. “I know things are different. But deep down you’re still the sensitive loving man that I fell for. The friend that supported me to open the shop.”

Porthos walks forward until he is just a few steps in front of Aramis. “Yes you’re different, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad different. I have a scar, does that make me less attractive to you?”

“It’s not the same,” mumbles Aramis.

“Is this really about your looks?” Porthos quickly wipes his eyes.

Aramis sighs and rubs at his eyes. “Not all of it. I just feel like this dark cloud on your life. Always _right there_ not allowing you to live, to laugh, to drink, to do whatever you want. Instead you’re saddled with someone that can barely walk home alone. Someone that hides in the back of our store.”

“Yes you’re having trouble, but look at yourself today compared to six months ago. You are healing and slowly moving forward.”

“I’m a grown man, I shouldn’t have this much trouble.”

“Aramis.” Porthos reaches out and places his hands on the crossed arms. “I’ve tried to be everything you needed and I think I’ve hurt your progress.”

Aramis looks horrified. “No! You’ve been so great…”

Porthos shakes his head and feels his eyes fill with tears again. “I should’ve given you a little more tough love and gotten you to see someone that was qualified to help you deal with things.”

“I wouldn’t have gone.”

“That’s what I tell myself. But it doesn’t change the fact, that’s what you need.”

Aramis shakes his head. “I can’t. The shop…”

He slides his hands around Aramis and hugs him close. “You must. Because I love you and, dark cloud or no, I’m not giving up on you.”

Aramis buries his head against Porthos’s neck and he ignores the wetness that rolls down his skin as Aramis cries. After a while, once Aramis’s breathing is under control, he nods and lifts his head. 

“Ok. I’ll find someone. But I still think…” Porthos quickly silences him by gently covering his lips with a finger.

“Not right now. Now, we shower and sleep. Tomorrow is a new day.”

Aramis presses his lips together and Porthos kisses his head before stepping away toward the bathroom.

 

* December – 2016 *

 

“I don’t think you should’ve moved the appointment Aramis.”

Aramis bangs down a cookie sheet onto the counter. “It’s not your decision Porthos. I told you because you’re so far up my ass lately that I thought it’d be less trouble to tell you before you noticed.”

As though he didn’t hear any of what Aramis said, Porthos continues. “They say that regular appointments or schedules are very important in the beginning…”

“I know! You’ve told me before.”

“Then why…”

“Because I wanted to be here to get things ready for tomorrow! I only moved it a day. One day! It’s not a big deal.”

“I told you before that we could work around…”

Aramis turns and swipes everything in his reach off the counter and onto the floor. The sound of bowls, spoons and pans clang loudly down onto the floor. Porthos winces.

“I don’t want that. I’ve told you that before. I want things normal. Just because I’m going to therapy doesn’t mean I need to be coddled.” Aramis’s voice is getting louder and Porthos remembers that it’s late in the afternoon and there could be customers out front.

“Aramis. Please, just relax.” Porthos tries to bring things down an octave, but that’s the wrong thing to say because Aramis stares at him wide-eye with his mouth open.

“Relax. You say to relax. How can I relax when you watch me constantly?!” Aramis shouts and steps toward him. “You second guess every decision I make!! My doctor said moving the session one day was fine, if he didn’t think that, he would’ve told me.”

“Aramis, please…” Porthos starts but Aramis interrupts.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! You need to give me space, you need to believe me. You need…”

“Excuse me.” Both he and Aramis turn toward the sound of the interruption to find Athos standing just inside the swinging door. “You both need to lower your voices or take this outside. The customers are uncomfortable and I didn’t think you’d want that… so here I am.”

To Porthos’s horror Aramis’s eyes fill with tears but he mutters. “Sorry, need a moment. I’ll…” He pushes by Porthos and go through the backdoor.

Porthos turns to follow him but Athos grabs his arm. 

“You need to give him time.” Athos says.

“He shouldn’t be alone.”

“I didn’t eavesdrop but your argument was loud. You need to give him room as it sounds as though you’re smothering him.”

Porthos jerks his arm angrily away. Athos reaches out again and places a hand on his arm. “I don’t mean to upset you. Perhaps you can think over the argument from a different point of view.”

He sags slightly and ducks his head as he quietly says, “I just want him to get better. I want to help.”

Athos steps forward. “I know, and he does too, but you need to find a different way of supporting him.”

Porthos nods and hesitates, but Athos pushes him toward the front of the cafe. “Go out there, make excuses and get to business. I’ll wait here for him.”

Porthos does as he is told and puts a happy face on for the customers. He jokes and flirts and makes everyone feel better about the unfortunate awkwardness they might have overheard. As Porthos makes small talk he tries to think over what brought on the fight as he and Aramis have never yelled at each other like that before. In all their years together, never like that.

As the minutes tick by he replays the argument and other recent conversations; each time he recognizes how overbearing he’s been. He feels horrible. He wasn’t helping Aramis at all but hindering everything he was doing.

He hears the soft banging of pans and bowls and looks through the window in the swinging door and sees Athos picking the items off the floor and putting them into the sink. 

A customer politely clears their throat so Porthos smiles and answers their questions and sells a box of six cupcakes. When he has another chance to look through the window again, Athos is still at the sink washing but Aramis approaches him. Porthos is thankful that the cupcake sale emptied the place for a moment, so he pushes the door open with his foot so he can hear, but makes no move to enter. 

“Athos.” Aramis says and the water turns off. “Please stop. I can take over.”

Athos shakes his hands off and then grabs a towel. “Can I help dry?”

Aramis shrugs and nods. Together they wash and dry the items that were thrown to the floor. As they finish, Athos hangs the towel over the counter and hesitates.

“You know he cares for you.” Athos says softly, almost too softly for Porthos to hear.

“Yes. But I hate that he sees me this way. You too.” Aramis seems to add with a humorless chuckle.

Athos leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms. In the background Porthos hears the jingle of the door and glances toward it hoping the person needs time to decide. 

“You told me once that he was better with me as I’m not complicated.” Porthos can see Aramis hang his head, but he doesn’t seem to say anything. “I’m just as complicated, just differently. You think it’s healthy for me to hide in your café every day?”

“I’m sure you have your reasons.” Aramis offers.

“Exactly. I do. You do too. We don’t want perfection; we just want you to be happy.” Athos reaches out and pats Aramis’s arm. Porthos ducks quickly back to the counter assuming Athos is returning and he doesn’t want to be caught. Turns out this customer is one that really can’t make up their mind as they’re still mulling over the cupcake selection.

 

* January – 2016 *

 

Porthos is concentrating on lining up the cupcakes inside the display case and misses the bell above the door. So when Athos shouts “Good morning Porthos!” very loudly, and very close, Porthos jerks his head which bangs on the shelf. Because of course he was leaning down and into the case.

But Athos is chuckling and Porthos loves the sound so he rubs his head and stands up. “Mornin’.”

“Are the boxes of cookies ready?”

“Yes. Aramis is putting the ribbons on.”

Athos frowns as Porthos continues to rub his head, then he reaches over and rubs it himself. “Are you really hurt?”

Porthos swats his hand away. “No. Just surprised me.”

They both turn when they hear Aramis approach. Athos smiles, “Good morning Aramis.”

Aramis smiles in response. “Here are the cookies. Are you sure you’re up to the task?”

“You doubt me?”

Chuckling Aramis adds, “Of course not, but kids love these cookies. You may be mauled.”

“I think I can handle some children.”

Porthos’s eyebrows climb. “Clearly this is your first run. You won’t be going room to room; all the children are gathered together. It’s Monday Morning Movie. And they know you’re comin’.”

He can see some doubt flicker across Athos’s face which makes him laugh. With a huff Athos pulls on his gloves and then takes the boxes from the counter. “I will be a fine delivery man.”

Before Athos can reach the door, Aramis is calling out to him as he rounds the end of the counter. “It’s cold out this morning.” The reaches out and wraps Athos’s scarf around his neck and quickly pecks his cheek.

Athos is frozen in place, eyes are big as saucers. It takes Porthos saying “Get going or you’re be late!” to get him moving. The blush is visible above the scarf and Porthos smiles and watches him leave.

“Some morning.” Porthos says, looking at Aramis expectantly and noticing the flush of color to his face.

“It was something Devlin suggested. I do something new or something I haven’t done in a long time each day. Small, large, it doesn’t matter. Just do something.”

“Ah, is that why you haven’t complained about the wet towels?”

Aramis rolls his eyes. “No, I’ve just accepted a hopeless cause.”

As Aramis passes him, Porthos gently grabs his arm and pulls him closer. “So what was today?”

He smiles and looks down. “Flirt with Athos. Although I’m a bit rusty.”

“I think he would disagree.”

The bell rings signaling a customer arriving and they both move behind the counter where Porthos stays and Aramis continues into the back. 

Athos returns an hour later and Porthos laughs loudly at the look in his eyes and goes about fixing his favorite tea.

At hearing Porthos, Aramis sticks his head out through the swinging door. There’s flour sprinkling his hair and a smudge across his forehead. Porthos releases a happy sigh, he loves Aramis like this. Head down, baking, being carefree. He’s seeing it more and more and each time just reminds him how lucky he is that Aramis choses to fight through each day.

“Is he back?” Aramis asks, not hiding his glee.

“He is. Want to take him his tea?”

“Yes. Does he seem traumatized?” reaching out to take the mug from Porthos.

Porthos chuckles, “He seems somethin’.”

Aramis walks to Athos’s table and places the mug in front of him. Once Athos wraps his hands around it, he can see Aramis squeeze his shoulder before turning and walking away. Porthos can hear Aramis’s giggling as he gets closer. 

“It’s not nice to laugh at someone’s bad day.”

“But he asked me why I bother with the ribbon as those heathens…” Aramis interrupts himself by laughing. “He actually used the word heathens for children under 12. When those heathens just rip into everything and grab the cookies as though they haven’t eaten in weeks.”

By now Aramis’s head is resting on his arms as he’s bent over leaning on the counter laughing. When he stands back up Porthos sees tears in his eyes and Porthos can’t resist pulling him in and hugging him. These glimpses of Aramis so honestly happy does something to Porthos and knowing that this time it was Athos makes his stomach flips with wonder and anticipation.

He releases Aramis with a gentle shove toward the back and approaches the customer patiently waiting. Only a few minutes later and Porthos is able to sit with Athos. By now Athos has drunk half the tea and is clicking away at the keyboard.

“So. How’d it go?” Porthos asks innocently, but he can’t stifle the smile.

Athos looks at him over the top of his laptop and stares, straight faced. “Fine.”

“That’s it? No talk of heathens?”

Those eyes come back up to his again. “If you’re here to make fun of me, your company is not wanted. If you’re here to provide a sympathetic ear, then you may stay.” The clicking of the keys start again and Porthos knows he’s being playful dismissed and that Athos is actually working.

So he chuckles, stands and leans over the table and in a low voice says, “Hey.” Athos looks up. “Thank you for taking them.” And leans forward and kisses him on the lips. He can feel Athos take a short startled breath but their lips push against each other gently. 

When they part, Athos licks his lips before saying, “You’re welcome.”

Porthos smiles and recklessly asks, “What are you doing for dinner tonight? I’d like it if you came out with Aramis and me.”

“Don’t you need to consult Aramis?”

“We’ve talked about it before.”

Athos squints. “Before?”

Porthos stands up so he’s no longer leaning. “Months ago I mentioned that we were both interested in you.”

“I thought you were kidding.”

“Did you?” Porthos just waits. He doesn’t believe Athos, but for some reason the man seems to want to give Porthos a chance to change his mind. 

“Sure. Yes, I’d like to go out tonight.”

“Great! You have a favorite place or should we pick.” Porthos hopes his blatant excitement is not off-putting.

Athos grins. “You decide, just tell me where.”

*

Porthos wasn’t sure what to expect from dinner, perhaps some stilted silences, some awkward conversational transitions. But that didn’t happen. He pulls his coat around himself and buttons up while the other two trail behind him. He looks and sees that both of them seem relaxed and smiling.

The dinner had gone better than he had dared to hope. They laughed and shared stories as though they were old friends catching up. And in a way they were. Athos has been coming into the café for months before Porthos approached him and while their talks were sometimes short in the beginning, many short talks have built a good foundation for something bigger. 

He had some concerns about inside jokes or stories between himself and Athos leaving Aramis on the outside, or vice versa, but that didn't happen. Or if it did, Aramis just smiled as they told it again this time to include him. 

They took a few moments to bundle themselves up before leaving the restaurant for their walk back to The Pauldron where Athos had left his car. The location for dinner was decided last minute and near to the café they decided to walk the handful of blocks. 

Porthos looks around but the streets are mostly empty as the hour is late for regular dinner goers. They had stayed and had dessert and coffee and more tea as they kept talking. Porthos left a hefty tip as they had taken up the table for hours.

Without other pedestrians they walk shoulder to shoulder, him then Athos and Aramis on the outside closest to the stores. Athos and Aramis continue their debate over when _Lost_ went bad. Porthos enjoyed the series as a whole and doesn’t have strong feelings either way, however Athos thought the forward time jump was ridiculous and Aramis felt it was necessary for storytelling. 

Their pace is a slow one but Porthos is enjoying the coolness in the air so there’s no reason to hurry. It takes him several moments to realize the discussion has stopped. He looks to his right and sees that Aramis has his shoulders hunched as though trying to disappear into his coat. Porthos reaches out around Athos’s back and grabs Aramis’s shoulder. Aramis jumps and looks at him guiltily.

Porthos tugs on the coat just slightly with the intention of having Aramis next to him when Aramis jerks. Porthos removes his hand and opens his mouth to find out what’s wrong but notices Aramis is staring at Athos in confusion. Porthos’s eyes flick down and see that Athos has taken Aramis’s hand, their fingers holding on tight to each other.

He smiles, he can’t help it, but in the next moment he sees they’re approaching an alley opening. He’s not sure how he missed it on their walk to dinner, but the darkness makes things feel heavier. Porthos grabs Athos’s hand and tugs to his left and the three of them cross the street without breaking stride. Porthos is thankful that there are no cars causing them to slow down. 

As they reach the other side Athos’s voice is loud in the relative quiet of the street. “What shapes are you going to do next Aramis?”

“Um. I haven’t. I’m not sure yet. I don’t have anything in mind.”

“Have you done butterflies yet? Or maybe unicorns.”

Aramis continues to look confused. “Unicorns? I don’t think so. The horn will most likely break off at some point and then it’ll just be a horse.”

“Horses are fine too.”

“Then I would just do horses. Fighting with the horn would be … irritating.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to get bent out of shape over horns. Perhaps ease into making the horses horny.”

There are several seconds of silence until both he and Aramis start laughing. The joke didn’t make an ounce of sense but Porthos can see it for what it was. He brings their joined hands up to his mouth and places a long kiss on the back of Athos’s.

By the time Aramis calms down and stops alternating between choked off giggles and confused puppy looks, the alley is long gone. He isn’t sure how Athos knew, but he’s grateful because now the night is ending with laughter and hand holding. Which he thinks is just perfect.

 

* February – 2016 *

 

Porthos will admit that he isn’t sure how he and Athos went from discussing some of the recent football trades to laying on the couch like a couple of teenagers. And he doesn’t care. Athos is warm on top of him and when Porthos tilts his head a gasp escapes Athos’s lips. Porthos growls softly as he wants to make Athos sound like that again.

He shifts slightly so that his right foot is flat on the ground, allowing him to push his hips up into Athos. Athos slides one hand next to Porthos’s head and the other under his arm. Porthos’s arm rubs against the couch as his hand scratches against Athos’s lower back as he searches for skin. He needs to feel as much of Athos as possible.

When Porthos’s fingers slide across his skin, Athos shudders and thrusts his hips forward. Porthos’s fingers dip right under the waistband; he had not noticed that Athos’s pants were so loose. The extra skin enflames Porthos and he kisses Athos harder, angling his head the way he wants so he can suck Athos’s bottom lip into his mouth and runs his tongue across it.

It’s then he hears the tinkling of keys being placed in the bloody bowl. Athos must hear the footsteps as he tries to sit up, back away and make space, but it’s too late. There’s no way Aramis won’t know what they were doing. Best to just be caught. 

Porthos remembers that he and Athos promised to wait for Aramis, they wouldn’t go beyond kissing. Again, he isn’t sure how they got here.

The footsteps come to an abrupt stop. There is silence except for their heavy breathing. 

“I interrupted.”

Porthos turns his head to the right to fully see Aramis; Athos buries his face further into his neck. “Eh, yes, but. It just happened, we hadn’t planned. That is…”

Aramis holds up a hand. “No need. I get it.” He takes his jacket off and folds it draped over his arm in front of him. “Can I watch?” he asks shyly.

Porthos feels the moan escape from Athos, his head nodding slightly. His own body pushes upward without conscious thought. “You sure?” 

Eyes darken and Aramis licks his lips. “Yes.”

Porthos squeezes his left hand, which he realizes is still halfway down the back of Athos’s pants. They’re both still hard, even with being interrupted. He can feel Athos start kissing his neck, little kisses and then licks of his tongue. Porthos turns his head as far as possible, giving Athos room to do whatever he wants. He sees Aramis shift and lean against the wall and stares; he licks his lips again. Porthos can’t imagine what they look like.

Porthos’s eyes shut and he moans as Athos sucks against his neck, Porthos thrusts upward chasing the feeling thrumming down his spine. Athos sucks harder and pushes down onto Porthos and the angle is off just a little, so Porthos uses both hands on Athos’s ass and shifts him to the side allowing their dicks to drag against each other. 

It’s not as good as if they were naked, but it’s still great. Athos is so hard that Porthos can feel everything through two sets of clothing. They start to thrust against each other harder and faster, Porthos spreads his legs wide to speed them up even more. Athos bites his neck again making Porthos aware that he had stopped at one point, but now he sucks so hard and flicks his tongue across the skin fast that Porthos comes. 

The breath punches out of him, his body shudders and his eyes flutter open and he sees Aramis still leaning against the wall, jacket held firmly in front of him and biting his lip. He shivers again when Athos leans back slightly and blows on his neck. Porthos turns his head and takes Athos’s lips in a bruising kiss, squeezing his ass and pulling Athos against himself.  
Porthos wants this to be good for all of them, so he buries his hand in Athos’s hair and angles his head allowing him to kiss and rub his cheek against Athos’s neck. Aramis can now see Athos’s face unobstructed. Athos groans and Porthos can feel him swallow. Porthos wiggles his right hand in between himself and Athos until Athos tilts up enough for him reach in and rub his fingers against the top of Athos’s cock as it sticks out above the underwear band. Athos gasps and surges forward into a kiss. 

Porthos continues to rub his fingers against the soft head of Athos’s cock, smearing the slickness around, then pulling Athos’s head back slightly when he feels Athos’s body tense. Porthos watches Athos start to come, sees his eyes shut and his mouth opens on a moan and then he bites his bottom lip. Porthos can feel the warm slickness on his fingers, and he tilts his head back to see Aramis who is breathing heavy, his head leaning against the wall. When he realizes Porthos is watching him, he licks his lips and stutters out “I’ll leave you to clean up” and disappears.

Athos kisses his cheek before resting his head on Porthos’s shoulder. “Is he alright?”

Porthos hums and hears the soft clang of the pipes from the second bathroom. “I think so, he’s taking a shower.”

Athos shifts up and back before pushing himself to standing while using the back of the couch. He looks down and frowns. 

“Please use the other bathroom; through there,” and points toward the main bedroom. 

After a few moments Porthos also goes into his room and quickly strips off his pants and briefs, wiping away as much mess as he can, before pulling on his favorite pair of sweats. He turns around at the sound of a soft throat clearing.

“I hate to impose, but…” Athos says and then gestures down at himself. “I’m a mess.”

“Sure, you can borrow something.” He turns around and rummages through the bottom drawer where Aramis keeps his own comfort clothes as he knows nothing of his will fit Athos well. And while Porthos would love to see a pair of his black pants, slung very low on Athos’s hips, he thinks Aramis’s is a safer choice.

He throws the pants in Athos’s direction and he disappears back into the bathroom. Porthos takes the opportunity to check on Aramis. He knocks gently on the door which is opened quickly.

Porthos smiles, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Aramis replies, his eyes bright and Porthos is moved to draw Aramis close into his arms for a hug, despite him still being wet. Aramis’s arms come up around his waist. Porthos kisses the wet hair before pulling back.

“Everything a’right?”

Aramis nods. “We agreed that you guys would move forward with dating and… things. Plus it was hot.”

“I know, but it’s different.”

“Porthos. I’m fine.” Aramis kisses him. “Go, I’ll be out in a bit.”

One of the things Porthos is learning is to believe in what people say and not question or push for additional clarification. He’s a worrier and always wants to make sure a person is fine. With Aramis he would go over an answer several times and Aramis would tolerate it because he knew. In recent months, as Aramis follows through with his therapy sessions, Porthos has come to understand how that can undermine a person’s decision or word. He and Aramis had a long talk after a particularly bad argument over what to have for breakfast.

It was ugly, but they worked through it. So now when Aramis says he’s fine, Porthos is going to believe him because he trusts that if he is never not fine, Aramis will tell him. 

They are lying on the couch when Aramis comes into the living room, looking cuddly in sweats and one of Porthos’s old sweatshirts. Porthos is surprised when Aramis wiggles and shoves his way in-between Porthos and Athos as though it’s something he’s always done.

The movie plays for a few minutes before Aramis picks at Athos’s pants and asks, “Aren’t these mine?” Porthos laughs loudly as Athos turns a lovely color of red.

 

* March – 2016 *

 

He pushes the door open in a hurry as he’s so wet. Porthos sees the towels laid out across the floor and drops his umbrella on top as he somehow locks the door without looking. He tosses his keys in the direction of the bowl, the loud ting tells Porthos they made it and he pulls off his coat and drops that on the towels. He pulls off his boots and leaves them wherever they land as he heads towards the bedroom. It had been raining for hours and Porthos still can’t believe it hasn’t let up. He even closed the store an hour early as there had been no customers since just after lunch. So much of their clientele is from foot traffic and no one in their right mind would chose to go out unless they had to.

Porthos heads straight to the shower. No finding Aramis, no snagging a snack. He just wants to feel the hot water pouring over his body and try and rid himself of the chill he feels down his spine.

The shower feels so good that Porthos loses track of time as he stands under the spray and enjoys how the whole room fills with the humid air. He shuts off the water, gets out and dries off before wrapping the towel around his waist to enter the bedroom.

He’s stops as he sees Aramis waiting for him at the end of the bed. He pauses but Aramis says nothing so Porthos walks to the chair next to the dresser and pulls on sweats and t-shirt. He takes the towel back into the bathroom and hangs it, all in an attempt to give Aramis time to say whatever it is he wants to say. Porthos is trying to be patient. 

Porthos reenters the room and sits next to Aramis. After another moment of silence he tilts sideways and pushes into Aramis gently. “Wanna talk about somethin’?”

He watches Aramis take a breath and clench his fingers tightly together where they are intertwined. “How do you know it can work with three of us?”

“Are you having doubts?”

“You have to admit the whole thing is odd.”

Porthos shakes his head. “No, I don’t have to admit that. We like each other; I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Yes but. I just think perhaps we’re shooting too high, that maybe it should just be two.”

Porthos bites his tongue. Literally. He’s tasting blood to make sure he swallows the first thing he wants to say. “And you have an idea about which two?” It still comes out sounding a little pissed off but he can’t help it. 

Aramis remains silent. Porthos puts a hand on his neck and squeezes. “What’s going on? What do you really want to talk about?”

“How often do you and Athos have sex?”

Porthos barks out a laugh, he wasn’t expecting that. “Well. There’s no scorecard. Not a ton because we’re holdin’ back.” He shakes his head. “Why?”

Aramis seems a little surprised and says, “I just assumed you were fucking and happy and that’s why you haven’t asked me.”

Porthos’s heart starts beating fast as he stares at Aramis and doesn’t know what to say. It had never occurred to him, or Athos, that Aramis was waiting for _them_ to approach _him_. They just assumed it would be the other way around. Aramis is the one healing, the one putting himself back together, why would it be any other way? He’s so confused and not sure what to do. He wishes Athos were here because he doesn’t want to fuck anything up. And Athos’s mind is better balanced than his.

Aramis takes a deep breath before saying, “It’s ridiculous, I know. But neither of you have said anything. You flirt, but that’s it. It started to feel like maybe you both changed your minds. Happy with just each other.”

Porthos leans back slightly, confused because Aramis doesn’t sound angry just matter of fact. Perhaps he practiced this talk so much in his head that the anger has dissipated. Or there was never anger and just a resigned acceptance, which makes Porthos feel like shit.

Aramis reaches out and squeezes Porthos’s knee. “It’s me, I know. I see you guys and you’re perfect and beautiful, and you include me but it also seems you hold back. I’m not going to break. When you guys do that, it’s hard to know where I stand.”

One last squeeze to his knee and Aramis stands and chuckles, “I’ve been working up to that for days.” He shakes out his hands. “So please try and act like you want to, stop filtering in order to protect me.” 

Aramis leans down and kisses Porthos lightly on the lips and caresses the side of his face before leaving the room. Porthos huffs out a breath and leans over with his elbows on his knees. His breathing is fast and his vision is watery. He takes a deep breath in and holds it. Counts to three, then exhales. He does it two more times. He can feel his heart rate coming down and he swallows down the sob that wants to escape.

Porthos doesn’t think Aramis has initiated an intimate touch in months. And Porthos was wrong, Aramis wasn’t down because of the rain, but nervous because he worked himself up into asking for something he wanted. Porthos smiles and runs a hand down his face. For the first time in so long Porthos _knows_ that everything is going to work out. He’s always had faith that it would, but to see Aramis’s eyes so bright and getting a kiss…

Porthos chuckles to himself. He’s really being a school boy right now.

“I made tomato soup, come and eat.” Aramis yells from the kitchen.

“Be right there!” Porthos answers and picks up his phone to text Athos. As he gets a smiley emoji, he realizes the rain is starting to let up. Such a great day.

 

* April – 2016 *

 

Porthos continues to play on his phone waiting for Aramis to emerge from the bedroom. It’s been going on for over thirty minutes. He knows what’s up but is trying to let the events unfold how they’re meant to, so he’s been narrowly focused on the phone to stop himself from interrupting.

The game though is kicking his ass and he has no lives left and he’s been on the same level for ten minutes and he’s frustrated and glaring at the phone when Aramis clears his throat. 

“Yeah.” Porthos looks up and tosses the bloody phone on the cushion.

Aramis hesitates. “I was talking with Athos. He wants to go out tonight.”

“Ok.” Porthos says, knowing there’s more but trying not to show that he already knows Athos was going to ask Aramis on a date. Just the two of them. 

After Porthos shared with Athos that Aramis wasn’t sure where or how much he fit in, Athos confessed that he’d wanted to spend time alone with Aramis. That was weeks ago and as everyday life got in the way Porthos started to wonder if it was ever going to happen. When Aramis’s phone went off earlier and he answered it with a questioning “Athos?” Porthos hoped that was the reason for the call.

“Well. He just wants to take me out; he said that it was past time the two of us did something together.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Aramis narrows his eyes. “You knew.”

He can feel his face heat and he looks down. “Athos might have mentioned it.”

Aramis comes over swats the phone on the cushion to the side and sits down. “I thought you weren’t going to make decisions for me anymore.”

“No no.” Porthos raises his hands. “I did no such thing. I shared with Athos your feelings, which you said I could, and _he_ suggested he ask you out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Aramis sighs and sits back. “I’m nervous,” he admits.

Porthos wants to say that he’s being silly, but he can see why it’s logical for both of them to be nervous. “I’m sure he is too.” He sits back as well. “What are you going to be doin’?”

Aramis laughs. “You won’t believe it, but he got tickets to a cooking class.”

“What?” 

“He says he bought them months ago on a whim, or some such bullshit, but it’s at the highest end restaurant in the city.”

Grinning Porthos asks, “Which one?”

“Le Cinq.”

“Bullshit!”

More laughter. “No, that’s where we’re going. I have no time to go crazy with the idea because he’s coming in an hour to pick me up. I think he forgot they were for tonight.”

“Well dear sir, you should find something to wear.”

Aramis stands and starts walking toward the bedroom. “Black jeans and a button down. It’s the best it gets. We’re cooking.”

“Wear the purple shirt, and the tight jeans.” Porthos says and only hears Aramis’s laughter coming down the hall.

Barely an hour later there’s a knock at their door. Porthos opens it to find Athos in a purple shirt, black scarf and, well, honestly Porthos doesn’t make it to the pants because he barks out a laugh that draws Aramis into the room.

Porthos hurries to get his phone and he snaps a couple of photos because they are dressed so similar that people will think they planned it.

Aramis smiles toward the ground then looks up and offers, “I can find another shirt.” 

“No.” Athos says quickly. “You look good in purple. Let’s go.”

Aramis blushes and moves forward. Porthos calls their names and they turn and look over their shoulder as one and he presses the camera button. Once they’re gone he flips through the photos and decides the last one is his favorite and makes it the lock screen photo. He also sends it to both of them.

*

Porthos is not waiting up for Aramis. That is ludicrous. He’s not. He is enjoying the peace and quiet of his home while flipping furiously through hundreds of channels and finding nothing to distract himself.  
But he’s not waiting up.

He turns off the TV in frustration just in time to hear a car. Being nosy, but not waiting up, he goes to the window and looks out. The front living room window faces the street and received the most gorgeous sunlight in the mornings and the city twinkles at night. 

Porthos moves quietly, as though someone is in the apartment with him, and pushes the curtain away from the window just enough that he can see. There’s Athos’s car and it’s Porthos’s lucky night because it’s pointed toward him so he can see through the windshield of the car. He sees smiling and talking. Aramis unlatches his seatbelt. More talking. More laughing. 

Porthos is starting to feel ridiculous, then Athos leans forward and Aramis meets him in the middle and they’re kissing. Porthos’s heart is beating quickly and he grins. He watches for a few moments more before backing away and going to the bedroom to wait for Aramis to come in.

The longer it takes, the happier Porthos feels. 

 

* May – 2016 *

 

Wiping down the counter Porthos looks up at the sound of chimes, but he frowns when it’s not Athos. Again. 

Athos didn’t come into the café the previous day and Porthos had texted him, saying hello or some other inane thing. He had received a short one word reply. 

People need their space and Porthos recognizes that, so he went about the rest of the day and was able to hold it inside until he and Aramis returned home. When he explained, Aramis helpfully rolled his eyes and told him he was being paranoid.

It’s another afternoon and still no Athos. Athos has never missed two days in a row of coming in and since they’ve been dating his absence is even more odd. 

He locks the door behind the last customer and turns to find Aramis standing behind the counter.

“Did you hear from him?” Aramis asks.

“No, I didn’t.” Porthos pulls his phone from his pocket to check the messages again, and nothing.

“I texted him earlier but he didn’t respond.”

“Are you worried?” Porthos asks.

“I really wasn’t yesterday. But now…” he shrugs.

“Tomorrow is Sunday and our early day. If we don’t hear from him, we’ll go by his place after we close up.”

Aramis nods and retreats to the back presumably to finish cleaning. Porthos does his half of the work out front: putting chairs up, sweeping, putting chairs down, wiping tables. Sometimes the routine bothers him, but tonight he loses himself in it as it’s better than worrying about Athos.

They don’t talk much and by mutual agreement they climb into bed to go to sleep. Minutes go by and Porthos knows it will be a while until he relaxes enough to sleep. Aramis shuffles forward and wraps an arm around his waist and pushes his head against Porthos’s shoulder. 

“I have a bad feeling,” Aramis whispers.

Porthos grips Aramis’s hand. “Yeah, it’s unlike him.”

“What if he thinks we abandoned him?” Voicing a fear Porthos feels himself.

“We have to respect Athos’s space, you know that sometimes he needs to recharge.”

“I know, but he’s never gone so silent before.”

Porthos sighs. “Agreed.”

Aramis’s fingers begin to move back and forth on his stomach and Porthos relaxes into the movement.

“He mentioned his ex the other day. It was a flip comment and I didn’t give it much thought at the time. But thinking back, I think something is happening. Do you know much about his ex?”

“He hasn’t gone into detail,” Porthos says. “Got the impression it ended badly.”

He feels Aramis nod and they fall silent.

*

The next day is the longest day Porthos has had to work through in months. They have just enough customers coming in and out that Porthos doesn’t pull at his hair, but it’s a near thing. He’s standing by the door watching the clock above and flips the lock as soon as the hand ticks over to 5pm.

He goes through the closing routine fast, he’s not as thorough as he should be but he doesn’t care. When he goes through the door to the kitchen, Aramis is rinsing various bowls.

“How much longer?” Porthos demands and then squeezes the back of Aramis’s neck to soften his tone.

“Just these, they can air dry tonight.”

They leave the café in record time. He calls Athos as they pull out of their parking space, Aramis already has the address in his GPS on his own phone and follows the directions. Athos doesn’t answer so he leaves a short message about how they’re coming over. He also texts him, that way Athos can’t complain he didn’t know.

Twenty minutes later, they are pulling into a long circular driveway surrounded by a well kept lawn. Porthos has had the address for months but there was never an opportunity to visit because Athos always came to their place. He knew Athos had money but hadn’t given any thought to what that might actually mean.

Porthos puts the car in park and gets out. The house before him is two stories and seems enormous to Porthos who has only lived in one or two bedroom flats.

Aramis pushes him slightly and they continue to the front door. They knock. Knock again. Porthos stands in front of the door dumbfounded. He doesn’t know what else to do but knock. So he does it again.

He looks to the left and sees Aramis walking toward the side of the house. Porthos follows and when he catches up he seem Aramis peering into the garage. 

“His car’s in there.”

They continue around the back of the house. There’s a stone patio with dark red furniture at the center, a few ceramic pots filled with leafy green plants and a built-in grill. 

“Door’s open.” Aramis says softly.

Porthos takes three quick steps to get beside him. “And how did you know that?” he whispers angrily.

Aramis stands up taller. “I tried the handle. There’s something wrong. I know it.” He pulls the door open wide. “Are you coming?”

Porthos rolls his eyes. “Of course,”

The door leads them into the kitchen. It’s large and spotless; so clean that he’s not sure when the last time Athos might have cooked something in here. He resists the urge to open the refrigerator just to see if there’s anything inside.

Aramis is not distracted by the kitchen, just continues through to other rooms. Porthos feels strange to be in Athos’s house without being invited and worse because the house feels so quiet. It’s unsettling.

Porthos is making his way slowly around the dining room table, the room filled with china cabinets and paintings that don’t seem very much like Athos, when he hears Aramis yell.

“Porthos!!”

The sound of Aramis’s voice is deep and echoes down the stairs. He didn’t hear Aramis climb the steps, but he takes them two at a time. There are so many doors that he has no idea where Aramis could be and he opens his mouth to yell when his name is being shouted again.

He hurries down the hall to the last door on the right and enters what could be the master bedroom. There’s no one there so he heads for the doorway in the corner of the room and enters the bathroom.

Aramis is sitting on the tiled floor, back against the tub with Athos between his legs. Porthos takes in the scene quickly but can only register the blood down Athos’s face and Aramis’s wide eyes over Athos’s shoulder.

Porthos crouches down and keeping his voice level he asks, “Is he breathin’?”

“Yes. Yes. He’s not awake. The blood is, it’s not wet.”

Porthos reaches out to take Athos from Aramis but he tugs Athos closer to him. “Get a washcloth. Warm water. Call…”

Aramis trails off but Porthos turns on the faucet to run the water until it’s hot. He takes his cell phone from his pocket and dials emergency. As he’s explaining the situation he soaks the washcloth in the hot water and wrings it until it’s damp. He passes the cloth to Aramis and gives the address to the emergency operator and thumbs off the phone.

It’s then he realizes the murmur in the background is Aramis as he speaks reassuring words to Athos in rambling Spanish. Porthos knows enough to get the idea of the feeling behind it, that things will be fine, he’s not alone, they will take care of him.

Aramis has cleaned away the worst of the blood but Athos remains so pale. Now that he’s not scared Athos wasn’t breathing, Porthos recognizes the overwhelming scent of alcohol. He looks around and finds the practically empty bottle behind the door. He picks it up and puts it on the sink.

“I’ll wait outside for the ambulance.” Porthos says.

Aramis looks up and his eyes are sad. “Do you think he did it on purpose?”

“Fall and hit his head?” Porthos asks. “No. I’m sure it was an accident.”

“Are you?”

Porthos squints and sighs. “Aramis. Nothin’ happened here but stupidity.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply as he turns and jogs from the door and down the stairs. He truly believes whatever happened is an accident, but he can see Aramis’s logic. Athos is a private man, but also moody, angry and depressive. People say “never” all the time but the plain fact is, that on any given day, for any given person, some event could push a person past their limit.

If that’s what happened, Porthos wonders why Athos didn’t call them. They could have been there for him. He didn’t need to be alone.

Porthos never wants him to be alone.

The emergency crew arrives quickly and he explains where to find Athos. In less than ten minutes the crew is on their way back to the bus and loading Athos into the back. Aramis climbs in after the stretcher and crew member like there’s nowhere else he belongs. Porthos stands there a little stupefied. Shouldn’t he be the one in the back? 

A crew member interrupts his thoughts by stating the name of the hospital and Porthos nods and heads to his car. Thoughts like that are stupid, they’re in this together, all for one.

*

Porthos finds Aramis sitting in a chair in the waiting room.

“Did they say anything?” Porthos asks.Aramis shakes his head. Porthos sits back in the chair and crosses his arms, but Aramis stays bent forward with his elbows on his knees. Porthos doesn’t like it when Aramis is this quiet or this still, it never means anything good. He leans forward to speak softly when he notices Aramis’s fingers are clenched together but he can see they’re trembling. He also notices that they’re stained and Porthos’s breath catches in his throat.

He reaches out and covers Aramis’s hands with his own and Aramis looks up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Porthos suggests and stands pulling Aramis with him.

He finds the nearest bathroom and helps Aramis wash off Athos’s blood and that seems to break whatever control Aramis has as he pulls close and buries his head against his shoulder. Porthos can feel the wet puffs of air through his shirt and Aramis’s body shaking and he lays his head on top of Aramis’s and tells him everything will be fine, even if he’s not sure. When Aramis pulls back his eyes are dry and he nods.

It’s not long after they return to the waiting room that a doctor approaches them asking about Athos’s family. They explain his family isn’t available and aren’t sure how to contact them. After some pleading the doctor explains that Athos hit his head and was unconscious for quite some time but is stable and will be watched carefully. No additional details are shared since they aren’t family.

Porthos reluctantly accepts this and convinces Aramis they need to go home, rest, and return the next day. 

After their showers and a little something to eat, they sit on the bed and try to come up with a plan.

“We can close at lunch?” Porthos offers.

“It’s one of our busier times during the day, wouldn’t it be better to close early?”

Before the debate can get going, Porthos’s phone goes off.

He picks it up and looks down. His heart skips a beat and he thumbs it on. “Athos?” he says desperately.

“Porthos.” Athos’s voice is gravely.

Aramis quickly presses against his side. Porthos lowers the phone and puts it on speaker. “How are you?”

“Mortified.”

Aramis huffs out a breath and rests his head against Porthos’s arm. 

“Can you give us more details?” Porthos asks gently.

“Aramis?” Athos asks.

“I’m here.” Aramis responds.

“They told me you rode with me, that you didn’t give them a choice.”

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” Aramis confesses and Porthos can see his face redden slightly.

Athos clears his throat, “Thank you. Wasn’t necessary though.”

Aramis looks distressed, “Yes it was.”

Clearing his throat again, Athos continues. “They say I’m fine. I need to stay overnight because of the concussion I probably _had_ but there’s nothing else wrong.”

“Athos. What happened? Why’d you get so drunk?” Porthos asks softly.

The silence stretches so long that Porthos checks to make sure the call wasn’t dropped. He looks at Aramis but they say nothing, trying to give Athos the time he needs.

“My baggage happened. I told you that I had some. The divorce has been final for quite some time, but she served me papers a few months ago for huge portion of my business; which I had before we married, but not before we were together. Her lawyers did something shorthanded and my team missed a deadline that they didn’t know about and now it looks like she is going to receive a huge payout which may cripple my company. She came to gloat and I allowed it to get to me and drank a bottle of whiskey.”

Porthos thinks that’s the most he’s ever heard Athos say at one time. “The whole bottle?”

“Yeah. I think I was going to the bathroom to throw up. Didn’t make it.”

Aramis leans toward the phone. “It’s alright. I’m sure she won’t get it.”

“She’s a master manipulator.”

“We’d like to pick you up tomorrow,” Porthos says.

“No, I won’t impose on you any further.”

Aramis looks confused and says, “Impose? Are you out of your mind still?”

Porthos pushes Aramis and quickly says, “I think Aramis means that it’s not an imposition. We were just talkin' about when to come see you tomorrow.”

“You were going to close the shop?” Athos asks sounding shocked.

“Yes.” Porthos takes a breath. “We care about you Athos.”

After a few beats of silence he can hear Athos swallow. “I will text you a time tomorrow once I know. Thank you.”

 

* June – 2016 *

 

As Porthos puts the final fork in place he can hear an occasional clang from the kitchen while Athos and Aramis work around each other to put the food together. He feels that the three of them have the dinner routine down to a science. If there was a science of setting out cutlery and plates, then filling them with food.

Since Athos’s release from the hospital they have stayed close. Dinners have become a thing, no more dates for two as everything has moved on to dates for three. The shyness between Athos and Aramis has disappeared and a special kind of flirting as taken its place.

Athos always seems exasperated with Aramis and Aramis seems to think it’s his number one priority to irritate Athos. Playfully of course. They both enjoy their dance; and it makes Porthos happy. Just seeing the two most important people in his life this relaxed fills him with joy.

The three of them have created something that works for them and after months of small talk, then months of flirting, followed by months of everyone being miserable, therapy, hospitals… they somehow still found their way to each other. And while they’re more open with each other, Porthos still sees hesitation when it comes to anything else. 

Porthos kisses both of them, Athos and Aramis will sit close together, touch each other while they talk or pass by, but he hasn’t seen any kissin’ since he was spying through the window. Porthos wants kissin’, he wants a hell of a lot more but they aren’t moving. The tension between them all is so thick, Porthos sometimes leaves the room to collect himself.

He’s done waiting and tonight, dessert will be very special.

Porthos is smiling when the two of them come to the table with plates full of pasta, sauce and meatballs. Porthos isn’t sure he’s tasted any of it though when he looks down at his empty plate sometime later. His heart has been beating a little faster than normal as he thinks of nothing but dessert.  
A chair scrapping against the floor jolts him out of his distraction. Athos and Aramis are already at the sink when Porthos brings the final dishes from the table. He places the plate and bowl on the counter and then gently grasps Aramis’s upper arm and turns him around. Porthos doesn’t give Aramis a chance to argue; he pushes Aramis’s hair back away from his face and kisses him. 

Aramis holds himself still, Porthos grins to himself as he imagines that Aramis’s eyes slide to his right to look at Athos. Porthos moves his lips slightly, enough to separate Aramis’s a little. He feels Aramis take a breath and kiss him back so he puts a hand against Aramis’s waist.

Porthos pulls back and smiles before turning and reaching for Athos. Athos is watching, one hand on the counter, the other hanging at his side. Porthos takes that hand and tugs gently until Athos is near enough that he can lean in and kiss the parted lips. There is no hesitation as Athos kisses him eagerly. 

Porthos squeezes Aramis’s waist where his other hand still rests. He pulls back from Athos and shifts back just a bit so that he’s no longer standing between them. He pulls on Athos’s hand and pushes against Aramis’s waist, just slightly, then waggles his eyebrows. Which he regrets immediately as Athos rolls his eyes and when he looks at Aramis, he’s slightly flushed but has a questioning look on his face.

“I think it’s past time we move things along,” Porthos says.

Athos shifts into Porthos’s side and Aramis looks between the two of them and seems to chuckle lowly but Porthos isn’t sure.

Porthos moves his hand up to Aramis’s scarred cheek and says softly, “If you aren’t ready, just say. No pressure.” He’s starting to he had a backup plan for dessert.

Aramis nods and smiles slightly. “No, I know.” He pauses for a moment before adding. “I’ve been thinking about it.” He looks from Porthos to Athos and back again. “Often. Just not sure of the … execution.”

Porthos smiles widely until his cheeks ache as he pulls Aramis into a long kiss. “We’ll figure it out.”

The dishes are forgotten and they make their way to the bedroom. There’s no pushing or pulling, kissing or grabbing; just them going to bed. Porthos is a little disappointed it wasn’t more like the movies where they bounce off walls and strip each other naked leaving a trail of clothes.

Of course they aren’t twenty anymore either.

Porthos flips on the light as he enters the room and turns to pull Athos into his arms. He’s aware of Aramis coming in and hears him near the bed as he opens his mouth and licks his way into Athos’s. His shirt is grabbed and pulled up his back. He ducks his head as Athos pulls the shirt all the way off and drops it to the floor. Porthos groans as Athos drags fingers down his chest.

He startles slightly as he feels Aramis’s hands at his waist; they pause only a moment before circling to the front to unbutton and unzip his pants. Instead of pushing them down the hands reach for Athos and nimbly unfasten his pants as well. 

Porthos sits down on the end of the bed and pulls Athos close; pushes his shirt up and starts kissing his stomach. He loves the feeling of the soft hair against his lips. He feels the bed dip beside him and then Aramis is kissing his shoulder. Porthos shudders when a tongue is dragged across his skin.

Athos removes his own shirt and Porthos hears it fall to the ground. He hugs Athos closer and feels fingers in his hair and Aramis’s teeth against his neck; he squeezes Athos tighter and groans into the soft flesh. Goosebumps cover his body.

Tilting his head back he takes a small gasp of breath. “Does anyone have something they want?”

Athos pushes hard on Porthos’s shoulder and he falls back to his elbows, Aramis shifts out of the way and kneels at his side. “Can you fuck me?” Athos all but growls into his mouth, Porthos pushes up to kiss him as hard as possible.

“I’ve wanted it for weeks.” Athos finishes.

Porthos nods, “Yeah, yeah.” He rolls to his right and reaches into the nightstand to grab the lube and condoms. He puts them on top and then wiggles out of his pants, throwing them to the side. When he turns, Athos and Aramis are kissing. Porthos loves it. They’re almost the same size while kneeling on the bed; their hair is wild, so many curls and waves between them. He moves to kneel with them when Athos puts his hands under Aramis’s shirt with the intention of taking it off, but Aramis pulls back quickly and pushes Athos’s hand away.

No one moves. Athos clears his throat. “I’m sorry if I …”

Aramis reaches out to take Athos’s hand. “I. I’ll keep my shirt on.” He looks at Porthos with guilt in his eyes.

Porthos clasps Aramis’s shoulder. “He won’t care.”

“Maybe I should just let you two… enjoy each other’s company,” Aramis says. Porthos’s heart is beating so hard, he doesn’t want Aramis to leave.

Before Aramis can move, Athos’s is leaving soft kisses down his chin, then up his jaw and over the scars on his cheek. Athos rests his face against the cheek as he says, “I don’t care about scars. Leave your shirt on, but don’t go. Please.”

Aramis’s eyes widen slightly and he buries one hand in Athos’s hair and nudges his head forward and kisses him. He pulls back just enough to mutter, “maybe next time” before covering Athos’s lips once more. Porthos watches as Aramis’s tongue slides along Athos’s bottom lip before disappearing into his mouth. Someone is moaning and then Athos starts working Aramis’s pants down his legs. 

Aramis gets off the bed to remove his pants and Porthos takes the opportunity to manhandle Athos until he’s on his back. He rids Athos of his pants and places random kisses all over his legs moving up until his nose is touching the crease at his thigh. Porthos feels Aramis’s hand at his neck, not pushing but just there. Porthos licks the bottom of Athos’s cock and his legs fall open wider. 

Porthos licks from the base to the top and then swallows the head and sucks. Athos shouts, “Porthos” and thrusts up into his mouth. 

Porthos pulls off and murmurs, “turn over.” Porthos sits back on his heels as he watches Athos turn on his stomach, then reaches out to grab Aramis’s arm to bring him close. He smiles and kisses him gently on the lips, which goes against the urgency they’re all feeling. Aramis smirks and leans in to bite his lower lip before licking across it. Porthos shivers.

Porthos looks down at Athos and admires the way the muscles in his back strain as he holds himself up. He’s talking to Aramis but Porthos isn’t paying attention, he just sees Athos’s hair hanging down, his shoulders, and the tiny waist he’s been dreaming of holding onto. 

It takes him a moment to realize that Aramis is now lying on the mattress with Athos on his hands and knees above him. Porthos reaches past them for the supplies on the nightstand and quickly squeezes lube onto his fingers. His large hand grabs Athos’s ass and squeezes, he pulls Athos’s cheeks apart so he can rub slick fingers over the sensitive skin.

Athos holds still but Porthos can hear wet lips sucking and licking each other. He can see Aramis’s arm moving, hears Athos moan as Aramis must rub the head of his dick. Porthos’s finger slides in easily and Athos huffs out a breath and his head hangs down.

Porthos sees Aramis bury his hand in Athos’s hair. He can feel Aramis’s legs brush against his own. Porthos moves his fingers quickly in and out of Athos who starts pushing back. He reaches for a condom but then has trouble grabbing hold. He’s about to use his teeth when Aramis sticks his hand out.

“Here.” Aramis demands, palm open. Porthos drops the condom in and the hand disappears under Athos until he hears the package rip, then the hand reappears.

“You’re welcome.” Aramis drawls. 

“At least someone is handling things.” Athos mutters.

Porthos slaps his ass and Athos’s whole body shudders. 

“Do it again Porthos,” Aramis says breathlessly.

So Porthos does, several more times, then slips on the condom. Athos is rocking just the slightest bit in anticipation. He slaps Athos one more time and Athos moans deeply. Porthos grabs Athos’s waist with his left hand and holds himself steady with his other as he pushes in. Porthos’s squeezes his eyes shut because it’s so tight, and Athos is rocking back and breathing in harsh pants. 

The bed shifts slightly as Aramis moves and then Porthos feels light stokes against his dick where he’s connected to Athos. Porthos opens eyes and sees Aramis watching him over Athos’s head which is bent. The fingers scratch against him and Porthos thrusts hard into Athos.

Athos grunts then groans, he falls to his arms and buries his head in Aramis’s neck. Porthos holds onto Athos and withdraws a tiny bit before pushing in again. Aramis’s left hand comes around to press against the small of Athos’s back. After a moment Porthos puts his hand on top and pushes downward, Athos finally gets the hint and lays on top of Aramis.

Porthos starts slowing thrusting into Athos and he takes his time increasing the speed. Every time he pushes forward he hears both Athos and Aramis gasp. It gives him a thrill up his spine that he can please them both at once. 

“god…” he mumbles as he adjusts his hands and starts rocking into Athos.

Aramis suddenly grabs one of Porthos’s wrists. 

“Faster.” Athos says, breathless.

“Yes, faster.” Aramis echoes. “Is it good?” Aramis asks softly, but the only noise in the room is their bodies coming together, so it seems loud.

“Yeah, just. Squeeze harder. Like…” Athos trails off into a load moan, his hair swings with Porthos’s movement.

Porthos can’t hold off much longer. He shifts slightly to the side and Athos lets out a high pitched sound. Porthos slams into him as hard and fast as he can, trying to keep the same angle. 

Athos is panting and moaning with each thrust forward. Porthos can hear ‘god’ ‘yes’ mumbled against Aramis’s skin. Porthos is going to come, he can feel the need start in the pit of his stomach\\. He leans forward as though trying to get closer to Athos. His head falls backward as he wills his hips to keep up the pace. 

Porthos loses himself in the rhythm until he hears Aramis moan and Athos say “yes… yes, come” and he recognizes Aramis’s grunt and imagines that his jaw is clenched as he can feel Aramis’s body is shaking as one of his legs is pressed against his. After a moment Athos’s body sinks lower and starts to tremble. Porthos tries to move faster.

He can hear Aramis urging Athos. “Rub yourself on me. Harder.” Athos starts moving faster. 

“Make me feel it,” Aramis growls. Athos thrusts back surprising Porthos, before driving down onto Aramis. Porthos pushes forward again and gives in. His body shakes as he feels Athos shudder and hears his muffled moans. Porthos keeps himself buried in Athos and twitches as Athos’s body squeezes him as they both come down.

Their loud breathing is the only sound in the room for minutes until Aramis starts making noises about being about to breathe and just how messy he is. So they move around until they’re all off the bed.

Cleaning up after sex is never fun, and when it’s three it’s just as ridiculous. Aramis's shirt is covered in two kinds of come, so he quickly changes with his back to the room. Porthos disposes of the condom and straightens the sheets on the bed while Athos goes into the bathroom. 

Porthos isn’t sure how to handle this part - will Athos want to leave, will Aramis need space, should Porthos do something? He’s tired and riding high after his orgasm and doesn’t want to deal with anything but sleeping. Athos emerges from the bathroom in boxers and approaches the bed.

“I can stay, right?” he asks, and while Porthos thinks it was mainly a formality he feels there’s some doubt mixed in.

“Yes.” Porthos says while Aramis responds with “Of course.”

Athos nods, takes Aramis’s hand and pushes him in first, then climbs in behind him. Porthos rolls so that he’s facing away from them. The bed shakes as they rearrange themselves, but he feels Aramis press against his back with his arm wrapped around his waist. After a moment he feels another hand against his skin, sliding under Aramis’s arm.

It’s a tight fit for three men, makes Porthos contemplate investing in a bigger bed, but right now furniture shopping is the furthest thing from his mind. And no matter how many times he imagined the three of them in bed together, the reality is better.

 

* July – 2016 *

 

The sky is clear, the sun is shining, Porthos smiles through his day and the customers laugh with him even more than normal. The weeks pass and Porthos thinks his happiness is contagious and that it’s bringing in more customers. 

Or maybe they just come for Aramis’s baking, which was always good, but now he creates new combinations. A quick favorite is a maple muffin topped with a maple and bacon cream cheese frosting. Aramis had intended those to be a special but Porthos had to ask him to start making them every day since customers continually asked for it.

Customers start requesting items, like carrot cake muffins with raisins instead of plain. Athos scrunched his face when he heard the request and stated that those people have no taste. Aramis then went into such a long explanation of _why_ raisins were a nice addition to the carrot cake that Athos kissed him to make the reasoning stop.

Porthos grins at the memory. The three of them have fallen into such an easy routine that he wonders why any of them were concerned. Over the last several weeks Athos has spent his nights and weekends with them, so Porthos dropped hints about living arrangements. No matter how subtle or straightforward he tried to be, Athos wasn’t clueing into the subject. At all.

Aramis finally took pity on Porthos and just flat out asked Athos, which Porthos _could_ have done but he didn’t want to put him on the spot in case he wasn’t ready. Porthos isn’t even sure why _Aramis_ was so sure that he would be open to discussing living together.

Bottom line is that Athos is interested but was hesitant to bring up such matters. Porthos understands that, but they’ve been dancing around each other for almost a year. Sure, they’ve only been dating a few months, but it’s the whole journey. And if the time is right, then it’s right no matter how long they’ve been together.

Looking for a new place is exhausting and Porthos can only imagine how much more it would be if Athos hadn’t hired a great realtor to do the hunting. They need something a little bigger, a few more rooms and a larger kitchen are their combined requests. Porthos has some concerns about listing prices but Athos keeps saying _it’s fine_. He’s trying to believe him.

So things were going well, Athos is finalizing every last bit of paperwork involving his ex-wife and he isn’t losing his business. And Aramis seems happy, genuinely happy; baking is more than a hiding place for him again and he’s actually excited about it.

Porthos isn’t sure he’s ever felt this happy before; this complete. He’s never stopped loving Aramis, especially through the tough times, but with Athos being a part of _them_ , it’s different. He feels like he fits in the world better, and not because having romance in your life is a must, but these two men give him the strength to be himself. 

He’s not softly interacting with the customers like before, now he’s chatting them up as his boisterous laugh echoing through the small café . He’s learning the more frequent guests’ names and he’s getting ideas from innocently eavesdropping on those waiting in line. He wants the café to grow, to thrive, not just succeed.

It’s closing time on a Saturday and the last hour has been slow, as it normally is on a weekend night. Porthos has already cleaned the floor and wiped down the tables. He wants to head out as soon as possible as Athos has promised a surprise dinner. It’s probably take out from their favorite place across town, but it’s something Porthos hasn’t needed to think about or plan so it’s going to be delicious.

Aramis comes through the swinging door without his apron and his hair falling around his face. Porthos has noticed that it’s getting very long and curls gently under his chin. 

“Are you finished?” asks Porthos. 

“Yes. Athos helped me earlier. While I made the donuts, danish and cookies he kept cleaning all the bowls and pans I dirtied. It was glorious.” He grins.

Porthos turns to look at Athos who is hunched over his laptop at his table. “I wondered where you disappeared.”

Athos raises his eyebrows, “Not enough to investigate.”

Aramis chuckles, “What about you? Place looks good. Can we go?”

Porthos hears the clicking of the keyboard and then the snap of the laptop closing. “Almost. Have to look at somethin’ in the back. Wipe the counter down for me and lock up?” He asks as he tosses Aramis the rag.

“My reward for a job well done should _not_ be more work!” Aramis says as he walks away. Porthos laughs as he enters the back.

Porthos turns toward the sink slightly to his right against the back wall and slides underneath. He’s been babying a leak for months. He’s not sure how Aramis hasn’t noticed, but if Porthos can get them one more month, then he’ll schedule a real plumber to fix is properly. For now it seems to respond to Porthos’s nasty words when combined with plumbers tape and a strong arm.

He’s just finishing up and putting away his tools when he hears Aramis shout “Get out!” Porthos turns and runs toward the door. He looks out through the window as he pushes it forward.

Marsac. Porthos’s breath catches in his throat because, to his knowledge, Aramis hasn’t seen him since the night of the attack. Every fiber of his being is telling Porthos to go out and punch Marsac and throw him out of the shop. 

But Aramis is standing his ground. And this is something Aramis should finish, not something for Porthos to take care of. 

This is one of those times he needs to step aside and let Aramis live. Porthos takes a deep breath and slowing lets it out through his mouth. It goes against everything in Porthos not to stand by Aramis, but he believes Aramis needs to do this and can do it.

He pushes the door a little more so he can hear better.

“I said get out,” Aramis repeats in a deadly calm voice.

Marsac ignores him and moves a step closer putting him within touching distance. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I know.”

“Aramis. Mis.”

“Don’t call me that.” Aramis interrupts.

“I wanted to see how you were.” Marsac says barely sounding sincere.

“Why?”

“I’ve felt sad about what happened.”

“You mean leaving me in the street to die.” Aramis shifts back and forth on his feet. Porthos recognizes it as a nervous action and he considers changing his mind and coming out but then sees Athos moving to stand behind Aramis.

“You’re the one?” Athos questions with a cold voice.

Marsac glances toward Athos. “Who are you?” Then looks around the store. “Isn’t Porthos here? Aren’t you seeing him anymore?”

Aramis nods. “We’re still together.”

“Then why is this one playing bodyguard?” 

Aramis clenches his fists. “You’ve seen me. I’m fine; it’s time for you to go.”

“I need to make you understand why I did what I did.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Marsac reaches out and grabs Aramis’s upper arm. “I just need to try and explain.”

As Aramis raises his arms to push Marsac back, Athos reaches forward and pulls Aramis several steps back from Marsac. Porthos can hear his growl of “don’t touch him.”

Marsac stares at Athos. “Are you fucking him?” He looks from Athos to Aramis. “Are you fucking _both_ of them?” he asks sounding shocked.

Aramis steps forward with his arms crossed against his chest. “It’s none of your business. And I’ll never understand. We were brothers and you turned your back on me.”

Marsac huffs, “If you weren’t such a …”

Aramis cocks his head. “Such a what?”

“This was pointless.” Marsac states and starts to move toward the door. “I can see you’re the same free spirited flirt.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Athos demands, his jaw tight and eyes fierce. 

Marsac has his hand on the door handle. “It means that we were followed that night because Aramis can’t control himself. Making eyes at anyone that would turn his way.” He shakes his head. “You should know, you’re _sharing_ him.” He makes it sound dirty.

Aramis moves quickly and pins Marsac against the door with their faces inches apart. Porthos can tell that the handle is digging into Marsac’s back by the way he winces.

“It’s not my fault. It’s something that just happened.” Aramis shoves Marsac against the door. “But because _you_ were selfish and afraid… you left me there.”

Aramis takes a step back and sounds tired. “Just…get out.”

Marsac freezes. Porthos thinks he’s going to turn and go, but he says, “What was I to do? You were lyin’ on ground and I was so drunk. I ran.”

Aramis seems to be vibrating. Athos moves forward to be closer to him. “So was _I_. It wasn’t quick. They bashed my head against the bricks so hard I couldn’t fight them off. I thought you were there, fighting, but you weren’t. They… they played with me, slashed at my skin over and over again. For _fun_.” Aramis's voice catches.

Athos reaches and grabs the back of Aramis’s shirt in what Porthos assumes is a sign of support. Porthos feels his eyes sting because he’s never heard Aramis talk about the attack. Even after nightmares, he never gave details. Porthos knew though. He’s seen the scars, he knows the difference from a regular knife wound… and something more horrific.

Aramis continues. “Get out. You mean nothing anymore. Just leave.”

Marsac looks from Aramis to Athos and back again before mumbling something before turning and leaving.

Athos quickly locks the door as Marsac leaves and Porthos pushes through the swing door and hops over the counter to gather Aramis into his arms. He feels Athos’s arms wrap around Aramis from the other side and they hold him while he sobs onto his shoulder.

Porthos shifts back slightly as Aramis quiets down to sniffles sometime later. “You ok?” Porthos asks.

Aramis nods. “I don’t know why I did that.” He wipes at his eyes. “So long ago, I should…”

“You should nothin’,” Porthos interrupts.

“Closure.” Athos mumbles.

Porthos and Aramis look at Athos expecting more. Athos sighs, crosses his arms and shifts his weight to his left leg and looks sassy with annoyance that they didn’t follow his logic and now has to use more words to explain. 

“Aramis never had a chance to confront Marsac after the incident. Aramis needed this to close that chapter. Much like I still felt sadness when the papers were signed. I don’t love her, I don’t even miss her, but I miss what we had, what I thought we had. So goes the same for Aramis.”

Aramis sighs and runs his hand through his hair, which just covers his face again in an instant. “I spent so much time doubting myself. That there was something wrong with me.”

“You were never the problem,” Porthos states.

Aramis nods. “I guess,” he adds reluctantly.

Porthos smiles gently. “If only someone told you that.”

A surprised huff comes out of Aramis before he rolls his eyes. “Can we go home and order pizza?”

Athos wraps his arm around Aramis’s waist and steers them toward the counter. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

 

* August – 2017 *

 

It’s Sunday afternoon and Porthos is lying on the couch, in the sun, doing nothing. Just enjoying the quiet of their home. He can still hardly believe they found a place they all agreed upon. He had half expected it to take months but this place came up and Athos insisted they see it quickly. 

He was right to act quickly because it’s perfect. Porthos worried about fitting all their stuff, but Aramis was insistent that they only move the items they truly want. For several weekends they all worked hard to donate, recycle or throw away anything that wasn’t vital to their happiness. It felt like a clean slate.

The house is a mile from the coffee shop, the commute to work - Athos rolls his eyes each time Porthos calls it a commute – it is only a quick drive or bike ride. He drives when he hits the snooze button on the alarm one too many times and always seems to be running late, however Aramis has fallen in love with riding his bike. 

Porthos marvels at Aramis. After the confrontation with Marsac, it’s as though he’s breaking out of the mold he put himself in. First it was insisting on riding the bike followed by agreeing with Athos about the store hours.

Aramis is being… Aramis again. Porthos is not calling attention to the slow shift, no need to cause Aramis to be self-conscious about it, but he is changing. Or maybe he’s just reverting back to the stronger bits of his personality before the incident. Porthos loves it as Aramis has more confidence in himself; he laughs more, smiles more, just more of everything.  
Porthos has taken to hugging him a lot, he can’t help it.

The living room is in the front of the house, but it’s small and Porthos thinks it was designed as a welcome room and a pathway to the kitchen. They have put very little in there but Athos is making noise about turning it into an office space for himself. The kitchen is a decent size, bigger than their flat but smaller than Athos’s old place. Aramis’s eyes lit up when he saw the open space and the counters, and all the storage. 

The kitchen looks into the den which is wider than the front of the house. There are stairs at the back of the room to the left which take you the master bedroom. The TV hangs on the wall and can be seen from any part of the den or kitchen. The couch acts as a divider between the two rooms and is a large sectional. Each end is a lounge cushion and they each can lie on the couch and still not touch each other. It’s the largest thing in the room and rightly so. They also squeezed in two chairs and standing lights for reading.

And off to the right is the patio with gorgeous flat stone and a BBQ built in. Porthos gushed about Athos’s set up and he still can’t believe they found a place with one so similar. 

Upstairs contains only the master bedroom and bathroom. Besides a bed to fit them all, there are more reading chairs and lamps, a bookcase and a few plants hanging in front of the window. All the windows look out to the side or back of the house and it’s beautiful. They do own a bit more of the land around their home and Aramis mentioned renovating, but Porthos can’t see what else they need right now.

Even though there isn’t much to the house, it gives them everything they need: a place to cook, sleep and lounge. They spend so much time at the shop there’s no need for a palace.

Porthos takes a deep breath and enjoys the sun shining through the windows as he settles into the couch.

It’s a Sunday afternoon, the third since changing the hours of the shop to 7 - 12 on Sunday, and Porthos still feels like he’s being delinquent. He’s worked Sundays for so long that the adjustment is difficult. This was also Athos’s idea. He tracked the flow of customers each day he’s there and reported that after noon on Sunday, the amount of people stopping in drastically dropped. A few weeks even had no one coming in at all. 

Athos had prepared a presentation for them that contained flow charts, hours of operation, and what it cost to remain open. All so he could convince them to close on Sunday, giving themselves a break and some down time.

Porthos will never admit to being convinced so easily because Athos put so much work into the analysis that he didn’t want to inadvertently offend him. Aramis was a bit harder to convince just because he was so used to it, he was afraid he wouldn’t find something to fill his time. That all changed when Aramis napped the afternoon away that first Sunday. Porthos remembers waking him and the brilliant smile on his face before mumbling that it was the best idea.

He can hear Athos putting the dishes away in the kitchen as he has gazes out the sliding glass door leading to the patio. Porthos has no real plans today; chores be damned, they are just not happening today.

Not realizing his eyes slipped shut, he opens them when he hears the door slide open. Aramis’s back is to him as he closes the door and Porthos blinks. And stares. 

He sits up and watches as Aramis toes off his shoes and hangs the helmet on the hook by the door. Aramis had quickly set up a little area off to the side of the sliding door when they moved in so that they would have a place for shoes (a rack), keys (small wall shelf with bowl) and helmet (a hook). He was so pleased with himself when it was finished that he actually walked them through the area so he knew that _they_ knew where to put stuff.

Now he watches as Aramis stretches his arms up high over his head; the shirt rises up exposing a few inches of skin. Porthos realizes that the clank and clang of the dishes have stopped as well.

Aramis turns around and freezes. He looks to Porthos, then behind him to the kitchen where he assumes Athos is standing.

“Do I have something…” Aramis trails off and wipes at his shirt.

Porthos shakes his head but it’s Athos that speaks. “You cut your hair.” Athos’s voice is deep. He can hear the brush of clothing and then Athos is standing in front of Aramis, hand reaching out.

Aramis ducks his head and blushes. “Yeah, I cut it.” He runs his hand through the hair and it flops slightly across his forehead and forms lose waves and curls and ends around his ears instead of under his chin. “I just thought it was too long and in my way and … I just wanted a change.”

Athos’s hand is pressed against Aramis’s cheek, his thumb is caressing the scars. “Finished hiding?” Athos asks gently.

Porthos sees Aramis swallow and then nod. Athos pulls him close and kisses him softly. Aramis’s hands settle on Athos’s waist before moving around to his back and clutching his shirt as Athos’s kiss turns to sucking on Aramis’s bottom lip before swiping his tongue across it.

Athos’s hand glides into Aramis’s hair and he brings their foreheads together. “I am amazed at your strength every day.”

Aramis huffs out a self-deprecating sound but Athos shakes his head. “You make light of things.”

“I don’t,” insists Aramis.

Porthos stands and walks around the end of the couch and grabs both men by the back of their necks. “You do. But that’s ok.” He leans forward and kisses Aramis’s cheek. “I agree wholeheartedly with Athos. You amaze me.”

“And you look…” Athos trails off and Porthos pulls back to see Athos taking in all of Aramis, the hand in his hair is caressing.

Porthos smirks. “It seems that you’ve caused Athos to be at a loss for words.”

Aramis rolls his eyes but his lips curve into a small smile. “As though he used many before.”

He chuckles and leans in slightly. “You look so hot. I’ve always loved your hair like this.” Porthos kisses Aramis’s cheek again. “You trimmed your beard.”

Aramis sucks in a breath as Athos kisses his neck. “I just, I wanted to be lighter.”

Porthos squeezes Aramis’s neck. “Want to go upstairs?”

Aramis moans, closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side as Athos sucks on his neck. Porthos moves forward and kisses his lips. He licks them apart. His hand moves up into Aramis’s hair where his fingers touch Athos’s. 

He pulls back and with his other hand still gripping Athos’s neck, he squeezes and pulls. “Are we doing this here?” he asked breathlessly. 

Athos’s eyes are bright with want. “No. Upstairs has supplies.” Athos takes Aramis’s hand and drags him along behind as he climbs the stairs.

Porthos places his hand on Aramis’s waist and as they go up the steps, one hand moves down over Aramis’s ass to squeeze and then press against the seam running up the middle. Aramis stumbles and curses Porthos and he chuckles to himself.

The bed isn’t made, it’s Sunday after all, so Athos drags the duvet onto the floor while pushing Aramis onto the bed. 

Porthos takes off his shirt and drops it to the floor and pushes his sweats down and off while he crawls onto the bed next to Aramis, who is still and seemingly confused.

“It’s just a haircut,” Aramis says softly as he leans back on his arms.

Porthos kisses him, then pulls back to say, “It’s not to us though. For weeks you’ve changin’. You carry yourself differently. You don’t even see it.”

Aramis glances toward Athos as he grips the waistband of his trousers and nods. Athos removes them and the underwear and continues to explain. “Don’t be mistaken. I’ve wanted to do this for months, but today I believed the advance would be welcomed enthusiastically.”

Aramis smiles and watches Athos undress himself. He licks his lips. Porthos moves his hands under Aramis’s t-shirt and tugs upward. Aramis looks at him. 

“Yes or no?” Porthos says quietly.

After a moment Aramis nods. He sits up and raises his arms as Porthos removes his shirt. Athos is next to him in an instant hugging and kissing any part that he can reach. Porthos tosses the shirt over his shoulder and pushes against Aramis until he’s lying on the bed. 

Athos has one hand entwined in Aramis’s and the other his spread across Aramis’s stomach covering the worst of the scarring. His thumb moves back and forth slowly. Athos places kisses along his shoulder, down his chest. His tongue licks across a nipple slowly, then quickly. 

Aramis moans and his hips shift upward. Porthos watches as Athos sucks hard and pulls the nipple into his mouth. Aramis shouts in surprise and his free hand grabs the sheets. Porthos rolls off the bed and grabs the condoms and lube and drops them next to Aramis’s head.

As Athos moves his attention down Aramis’s chest, Aramis is panting. Porthos moves behind Athos and drags his fingers down his back and around his waist to grab his cock. Athos jerks forward and moans against Aramis’s skin. 

Porthos takes his hand back and shifts until he’s lying to the left of them. He continues to pet Athos from the bottom of his neck down to the top of his ass. Athos shivers each time Porthos’s fingers tickle across the base of his back. 

Athos continues his exploration of Aramis by placing gentle kisses across his stomach; Porthos sees Athos’s tongue peak out from between his lips to lick the pink bumps. Aramis clutches and twists the sheet.

“This ok?” Porthos asks.

“Yes… yes.” Aramis swallows, his head bent up toward the ceiling, eyes wide as he pants. “It’s just been so long.”

Porthos drags his hand through Aramis’s hair and leans forward until he can press his lips against Aramis’s. Aramis surges up and licks and licks until Porthos chases the tongue into Aramis’s mouth where he sucks on it hard. 

He moans and shoves his hips forward until his cock pushes against Athos’s leg. 

Athos stops and crawls forward just enough to rub his stubbled cheek across Porthos’s. He turns his head and licks into Athos’s mouth, tugs on his bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, running this tongue back and forth over it. Athos gasps and pulls back.

Athos looks into Porthos’s eyes, he’s not sure what he sees, but Athos climbs off of Aramis and pushes Porthos to take his place. Aramis smiles and shimmies up the bed to give them more room.

Porthos cradles Aramis’s face in his hands and places kisses over both cheeks, his lips, his neck and doesn’t stop until Aramis pushes at him chuckling softly. Aramis runs his fingers through Porthos’s hair, rubs his scalp and Porthos melts down onto Aramis. He grinds his hips in circles against Aramis and feels the hard cock against his own. He loses himself in the slow build of pleasure until he feels the bed dip under his knees and Athos’s hands running down his back and to his ass.

Porthos picks his head up from where it was resting against Aramis’s shoulder and presses a long kiss against Aramis’s lips. He shifts up as he drags his fingers through the soft hairs of Aramis’s belly, grasps his cock and strokes a few times, before scratching along his balls and then pressing in. Aramis tilts his hips up and reaches for the lube by his shoulder; he quickly squeezes some onto Porthos’s fingers and drops it back on the bed. Porthos sees Athos pick up the tube and then feels him settle behind him.

He rubs his fingers together and then drags his fingers across Aramis's entrance and his legs fall open. Porthos leans down and kisses him hard as he presses a finger into Aramis. His tongue is sucked into Aramis’s mouth while his finger slides easily in and out. 

Porthos feels Athos’s hands on his back and then he is spread open and Athos pushes a thumb against his rim. Porthos bucks backward as he pushes two fingers into Aramis who shifts one leg wide giving them both more space. 

Porthos braces himself on one arm as he slowly removes his fingers; Aramis opens the condom wrapper and hands it to him. As he takes it, Aramis opens another one; Athos already has two fingers in his ass and Porthos is finding it hard to concentrate on rolling on the condom. 

Athos reaches forward and plucks the condom from Aramis’s hands and the weight disappears from Porthos’s back. Porthos takes a moment to breathe; he can feel beads of sweat around his neck. 

Porthos feels Aramis grip his bicep as he lines himself up and pushes slowly into Aramis. Aramis’s eyes flutter and his other hand comes up to pull Porthos down by the neck and kiss him. 

He feels Athos’s hand on his ass and then pressure while Athos pushes into him. Athos doesn’t stop until he’s pressed up against Porthos tight and he’s panting into Aramis’s mouth as they move their lips against each other. He can feel Athos's breath against the back of his neck.

Porthos doesn’t think he can move. So many hands, everything so tight, lips touching him randomly. He shudders as they all take a moment to breathe.

That moment is over too fast when Athos pulls back and pushes forward which forces Porthos into Aramis. They all moan. Athos grabs him by the waist; Aramis puts a hand on top of Athos’s and Porthos can feel too many fingers. Aramis presses the back of his head down so he’s resting against Aramis’s shoulder again. Aramis pulls his hair, tilting his head to the side.

He’s not sure how it happened, perhaps there was silent communication between them over his shoulder, but they seem to move as one. Athos pulls out, pauses, and then thrusts forward fast as Aramis tilts his hips up. Back, forward; in, out. 

Porthos has no control as he’s being shared between them. Every thrust forward sends shivers through his body; every squeeze of Aramis’s body on his cock makes him gasp against Aramis’s skin.

With every thrust Aramis sucks against his neck. He must be watching Athos because the timing is too perfect. He needs to come; the sucking feels like Aramis is drawing the orgasm out of him from the bottoms of his feet. Thrust suck squeeze. Thrust suck squeeze, over and over until the only thing Porthos knows is the feel of their skin, the sound of their loud breathing.

Athos speeds up and the sucking is now one long pull against his neck and the orgasm is here and Porthos can’t hold back as he grunts and groans before grinding into Aramis as he comes. 

He’s panting, making Aramis’s skin wet when Athos pushes forward even more, even faster. He can feel Aramis push a hand between them to rub himself and the two of them push and pull and rub as fast as they can until they’re both shaking and moaning. Porthos can’t help but whimper a little as he feels Aramis contract around his softening cock. 

His body is thrumming and all he hears is their breathing. Athos shifts and gently pulls out and lands to their right. Porthos does the same and lands to the left. Their skin is sticky with sweat or come and Porthos is really starting to appreciate lazy Sunday afternoons.

Several minutes pass before Athos reaches across and grabs Porthos’s arm where it’s lying against Aramis’s stomach. He leans up and kisses Aramis, then Porthos with such a serious, but relaxed look in his eyes before leaving the bed to wash up.

Aramis shifts up to his elbows and watches Athos walk away. “I think that was his “I love you.”

Porthos props himself on his elbow too, “Really?”

Aramis shrugs. “He’s a man of few words.”

“But it’s not the first time.”

“I think this is going to work. I had some doubts, but ever since settling in here. Things are just easy.” 

Porthos lowers himself back to the bed and rolls over to look at the ceiling. “I don’t want to tell you I told you so but…”

Aramis leans up on his right arm and looks down at Porthos. “I’m serious about making that bathroom bigger. We don’t need all these reading nooks.”

“I like those.” Athos shouts from the bathroom.

“Think about it.” Aramis continues. “Huge walk in shower. Multiple shower heads. Two sinks.”

“There’s two now.” Athos shouts again.

Aramis leans down smiling. “You want it bigger, right?”

“What is with you and your obsession over the size of this bathroom?” Athos asks and Porthos looks around Aramis to see Athos leaning against the doorway, hips cocked, wearing only a towel tied very low across his waist.

Aramis turns and Porthos watches him take in the picture that Athos is making. “We could have sex in it.”

“You do realize that while this one is being renovated, you’ll have to bathe in the sink or the gym.” Athos says and chuckles as he retreats back into the bathroom.

“Maybe the bathroom is fine.” Aramis says and Porthos laughs loudly. 

Sunday afternoons are now his favorite time of the week. Porthos is sure that sex is not going to be featured every week, but being here with these two is what makes him happy and he hopes that continues for always.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! (Let me know what you think if you have a moment.)


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